Killing the Grass

In front of a small lawn in a San Diego neighborhood, there a four signs that read: Please keep your bitches from urinating on the lawn. They are killing the grass. . .

7 thoughts on “Killing the Grass

  1. Makes sense to me. The guys do it on a hydrant or a tree trunk. The girls squat…

  2. Dogs & bitches are both capable of grass burn due to the alkaline in their urine .

    We generally see a dog cock his leg and spray over a ‘pee post’ or some thing similar, which is his way of leaving, or over powering, a previous scent. There are certain dogs that are more comfortable squatting to pee, which really is a puppy thing that they grow out of.

    Bitches on the other hand tend to lay a pool scent as nature intended, (it’s there for the ‘boys’ to take the bait)!

    Rock salts placed into a water bowl eliminates the burn as it reduces the PH content in the urine. It is also good for the dog & bitch as it replaces the minerals they require for a healthier lifestyle.

    What really is annoying is when owners act irresponsibly and allow their dogs to roam and conduct their ‘constitutional duty’ at will. Children and adults normally suffer the consequence, which is my No1 (and No 2) pet hate!

    When it comes to taking people to task over ‘fouling’ I am your man'; politely first, in your face as a follow up.

    And this little ‘gem’ from Novembers Readers Digest, from the “You Couldn’t Make It Up” column.

    A FEW YEARS AGO, IN MY JOB AS A POLICE OFFICER,
    I was sent to take a statement from an elderly victim of burglary who lived in a tidy period property. I arrived and began to scribble down notes, but my attention was distracted when a large dog walked calmly into the room.
    The dog sniffed around curiously, settled in the corner and proceeded to defecate on the floor. The lady glanced at me and smiled nervously, I smiled back. She made no attempt to clean it up, but I presumed, given the tidiness of the house, she would do it when I left.
    After a while I stood up to leave, thanking the lady for the cup of coffee, only for her to ask politely, “are you not taking your dog with you”?
    I never did discover the identity of the dogs owner-nor how it got into the house-but the bemused look on her face still haunts me today. END.

    The British stiff upper lip.

    Yours Aye.

    • Very interesting, I am not familiar with the rock salt tactic. And your story about the lady and her dog, she certainly did have a stiff upper-lip. Poor dear. . .

    • While we were in Scotland we went for a walk on the beach (winter time). A huge black Labrador came bounding out and jumped and ran and played all around my daughter. Another couple came walking down the beach with a very nicely trained yellow lab on a leash. Of course the black Lab pounced all over the couple and their dog. They frowned severely at my daughter as if the bad black Lab was her problem and she should take better care of her dog. You would have to know my daughter, but she thought the whole thing very funny, which did not make the couple any happier.

  3. I thought long and hard about telling this little ‘dit’ as it does not impart itself to the dignity associated with this blog.

    The Dog Section. RM Barracks Stonehouse.

    Years hence, myself and others were getting a trite peeved at a certain ‘past-over for-promotion-senior officer’ who exercised his Springer spaniel on the well groomed sports pitch that was a short walk from the Dog Section.

    Although ‘said’ officer was house trained, his dog was not! On more than several occasions’, marines fell foul to the ‘parcels’ left behind. Complaints would be made but within time the same practice would resume.

    One early morning as I returned back from a local area patrol, I noticed the same ‘owner’ and his canine ‘delivery’ system walking away from the pitch, as I crossed the edge of the pitch I came across a ‘parcel’. Enough was enough…

    I dropped off my guard dog and picked up a brown manila envelope and wrote upon it “you appear to have left this behind this morning”. Using a stick I scooped up the ‘parcel’ and placed it inside the envelope.

    As I walked down to the Officers Mess I started to calm down and thought about my impending action; I bumped into a mate who asked what was in the envelope; I explained my ‘angst’ of which he said,
    “can I make a suggestion” –
    “yep”
    “I have just seen him go into the Mess for breakfast, he has left his jacket hanging in the foyer, and it’s a quiet morning, so leave it in his pocket”?

    ‘El Diablo’ made me do it… (I even left the envelope open to enhance the effect).

    A week passed and a witch-hunt pursued, fingers were pointed but to no avail, the culprit was never found.

    Did it have the desired effect… NO! Unfortunately it did not. However, one day the RM Brigadier, (whose house sat protected within the copious sized barracks) decided to undertake his morning run around the running track that encompassed the pitch; where upon he discovered and trod on a previously delivered ‘parcel’.

    He was not a happy man. But we all were, as this did stop the ‘delivery’ system being exercised within the establishment.

    Yours Aye.
    (Uncouthly so)

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