A funny thing happened on the way to Happy Hour...

So despite the fact that I fear this blog is becoming all about dog poop, I need to share this funny story with you all.  
Part 1

My tiny hand, not Sam's monstrous paw.

I was starting to run low on the Flush Doggy bags, so I decided to try out a different brand.  They came in the mail a few weeks ago but I hadn't tried them out yet. I still had the others and Rhea was mostly still going potty in the yard since it's been so damn cold.  But, we had a nice day outside and I had free time, so I took her around the block and decided to try out the new bags.  The are called The Flushable Bag and they claim to be the only flushable dog poo bag not made in China.  They looked promising! Green, large enough for Sam's giant hand, and filmy. All sorts of recommendations linked to their website from trusted sources! I could just tell that they would dissolve easily in the toilet and wouldn't clog my system.  

Well, I was right! When I got home from our walk, I tossed the bag in the water and it immediately started twisting and shrinking and melting. After a minute, I flushed it away, no problem.  OK, one problem. There was no poop in it. You see, after Rhea did her business in the snow, I picked it up (which wasn't all that easy -- it was a big one and these new bags aren't flexible or stretchy), along with some of the snow (it couldn't be helped).  And we continued on our way.  For 15 feet.  I stopped to take a look at the bag to see how it was performing and THERE WAS ALREADY A HOLE IN THE BOTTOM. I had just enough time to start to flip the bag upside down, thinking I could balance it in my gloved palm on the thicker, extra, twisted bag material at the top when it all came dropping out.  Do you know what shit sounds like when it hits the ground from about 4 feet in the air?  

May not be suitable for hot dumps in snow, either.

Picture cows, horses, camels, elephants. Plopping onto frozen tarmac early in the morning while everyone is sleeping in their warm beds and I stand alone in the silent icy-white village. Silent that is, until I start laughing. Hysterically. At myself. By myself. Cackling, really. What could I do? I didn't bring a back-up bag. I walked away.

Part 2
Hours pass. The sun starts to sink toward the west. Sam comes home from work. I've spent my day off in a decently relaxing manner. It's time for Happy Hour.  Although our village is small and we could easily walk to our favorite watering hole, Sam drives us because it's like 10 degrees Fahrenheit.  I mention that we should stop on our way so that I can pick up the poorly placed dog poo that Rhea and I left behind earlier.  Sam is not happy about this.  I win the debate over whether this is necessary and around the block we go with a sturdier bag in hand.  

 Flushable Bag on top, Flush Doggy on the bottom

Sam pulls over the car where I point and I get out.  My loving partner pulls the car level with me and rolls down the window.  I am struggling to grab the now-frozen, stuck to the ground dog crap.
"Hey Lady! Whatcha doin?" Loudly.
"Are you pickin' up dog poop?" Even louder. I start giggling.
"I don' see no dog wi'choo." The voice is becoming a very thick 'redneck' accent. I laugh harder. "We don' need no dog to pick up poop, do we? Nuh uh!" 
I scurry to flip the bag poop-side-in and run to the passenger side of the car and jump in. A lady with an actual dog is starting to walk up the road toward us and I definitely don't want her to hear Sam mocking me. The dog poo is now at my feet in the car and we drive toward the nearest public trash can and beyond that, Happy Hour. At least it's frozen, it doesn't smell.  I really need that drink.