The weather here the past couple days has been ridiculously nice. Sorry East Coast.
And sorry to the Olympics. Not the best year for a winter that feels like spring.
Yesterday it was almost 60 degrees, so I did what any treadmill-hating quasi runner would do, and headed outside.
I decided to take our smaller dog with me. She's full of energy and could always run more, seemed like the perfect running partner.
Except for the fact that she is scared to death of any dog or person she doesn't recognize. And places she doesn't know. Etc.
This nervousness usually results in excess pooping, and yesterday was no exception.
Within the first quarter of a mile, she had pooped twice.
Unfortunately for me, I had forgotten to grab plastic baggies when I left the house. (I had left the big dog home alone, and when I realized after getting out the door I need baggies still, I didn't want to deal with his sad, accusing eyes.)
All I had in my car were some extra napkins I had stashed.
So here I am, running down the path, with poop in a napkin in my hand.
Luckily I found a dumpster not too much farther, but still. Gross.
On that note, happy Saturday! I'm just over halfway through my four-day weekend.
My life is rough.