Confessions of a Neurotic Dog Mom: The Poop in My Pocket
It was the second week we had June. She was still crying at night. I was on about three hours of sleep.
I took her out in the snow, then left her with my fiancé. I was meeting friends for a quick dinner.
Delicious meal. We split the bill.
I reached into my pea coat pocket for my wallet, and pulled out a small, tightly tied baggie of dog poo.