Ode to Feces [Hey, You!]

Illustration by Bob Aul

Please stop letting your dogs shit in the grass 2 inches from my front door. Almost every morning, I wake up to one, two or three piles of poo in my grass. I know that there is a sidewalk next to my grass, and you walk your dogs there—but you KNOW your dogs are going to shit, so bring a bag and clean it up!

And it’s not just that: Just after Christmas, my 9-year-old daughter was wearing the brand-new pair of pink suede Vans I had bought her for the first time. It was still dark out when she accidentally stepped in the huge pile of dog turd, and as she burst into tears and proclaimed them ruined, I tried to reassure her I could fix them. Except I can’t. There is a brown shit stain on her shoes that will not come off. I am a single mom, and I go to school, and $50 for a pair of shoes is a lot for me. Thanks for ruining a present that she barely even got to wear ONCE because you’re an asshole!

Send anonymous thanks, confessions or accusations—changing or deleting the names of the guilty and innocent—to letters@ocweekly.com.

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