Everyday when I come in to the cemetery off Centennial the piles of dog poop are growing in number and size. Evidently cleaning up the First Parish and Clark cemeteries has opened up a new dog park as well as a short cut and easy access to the party center in the back corner of Clark.
I was cleaning marble fragments in hopes of finding the missing pieces of our Douglass family graves. Didn’t find any new engravings, just blank pieces. I sat on the ground next to our cousin William who gave his life as a Union Soldier. There was a fresh pile of dog poop on his grave.
A lady walked into the cemetery with two dogs. I asked her if she had bags to pick up after her dogs who were clearly in the cemetery to do their job. She took offense and said there were bags in her satchel. She let the dogs off the leash to run all over the place. Then a lady came in from Oval Park and let her three dogs go. I watched one of the dogs poop. After some time I decided to walk over to Clark. I passed the nice fresh poop from lady number two.
As I neared the wall to go into Clark. The women came out with all five dogs on the loose. Lady number two practically ran for the Oval Park exit, calling Rufus and Nellie as she went. Lady number one headed back to Centennial, all the while muttering about me being crazy and mocking the way I was standing with my hands on my hips. (Sorry lady, my back was hurting from weed chopping.)
Thus, the tears. I am not asking for thanks for what I do, but I don’t like being disrespected and treated like some kind of weirdo.
