Planning revenge for ‘land mines’

I thought there was a U.N. prohibition on the laying of land mines. But no, as the snow and ice recedes from the roads and sidewalks every spring, there they are.
In these fresh spring days, with the sun finally shining and things starting to melt, I like to stroll the roads with my head up and shoulders back taking in all the glory of the new season.
But no, that is impossible if I am to maintain domestic peace with the Pearl of the Orient.
That is why I am slouched; spine like a big comma and my footsteps hesitant. I even have to forego my sunglasses so my retinas get a little more fried.
All because of those darned land mines some have been laying all winter long.
If you step on one, the only thing that will explode is the Pearl’s temper or the Cook’s patience at the Bakery when you track it in.
No matter how hard you scrape or shake your feet, the gluey darned things won’t vacate the sole of your shoes. There is no grass to wipe it on, and it’s too cold and wet to leave your shoes outside.
Land mines are, of course, the leavings of some of the local population of dog fanciers that either cannot or will not pick up after their mutts. Folks wonder why I like the song by the Arrogant Worms describing why one might want to kill the dog and then the guy next door who likes to share his crap with others.
Well, I’m watching. And while I don’t plan on killing anyone or their dog, I’m seriously planning revenge. First, I had planned on getting a dog the size of a Shetland pony and visiting the offending owners.
Then I thought perhaps a wall of shame—photos of all those caught in the act. After all, I could use some practice with that telephoto lenses.
Maybe even a website.
All great ideas, but they all would require more effort than I’m willing to put forth.
Or perhaps I should start making deposits of my own on the front doorsteps of those freely distributing their gifts.
When the police arrive at the scene of the disturbance, I can hear the argument.
“Officer, his dog bit me right on the butt!”
“But officer, he was taking a dump on my doorstep!”
And that’s when it would hit the fan. So maybe I’ll just keep walking with my head down.