Surprise while walking Gunther Monday: don’t let it happen to you!

I’ll try to be brief. The outdoor temp was mid 90s, forest fire smoke made the evening sun reddish orange. Gunther, P. and I needed to walk around the block. G. needed to poop after about the first 100 feet. He made a healthy pile, easy to pick up with an inverted bag. As I tied the usual knot, P. offered to carry it the rest of the way. Why? I asked.

“It’s so hot, the poop will make the neighbor’s garbage bin stink,” she answered, gesturing toward several trash bins. “I want to put it in our own trash,” she said.

“I’ll carry it home,” I assured her.

Midway around the block, G. pooped again. I pulled a second bag from my pocket to grab it, to carry it home. By this time we were on our approach to our house. G. hunched down for a third B movement.

All was well until I felt a mosquito drilling into my shin. I looked. It was a deerfly, or perhaps a small horsefly. In any case it was biting my skin. I knew I could easily kill the fly by swatting with my left hand, which had the bag from Gunther’s first movement.

As soon as I swung at the fly, I discovered, too late, that the bag would split when it struck my shin.