So last week, Madison taught me how to be a better uncle. And this week, Simon is teaching me to remember the simple things like being prepared. In case you don't know, Simon is a d-o-g who lives the good life.
I walked him at lunch yesterday. He pooped. And last night we went for a long stroll, and I got the sense that he was on the hunt for the perfect place to go number two. Like most of us, he won't poop just anywhere. This is one reason I like him.
That's also when I realized I didn't have a bag. I really just forgot, but also didn't think it would be a problem. The first time I kept him, he didn't poop for three days. That caused me a lot of anxiety.
A couple of minutes later, he found a spot on a swanky West Village street, and he pooped. I had nothing. And because just last week, I told Madison that it's against the law not to pick up after dogs and "bad people" leave poop on the ground, I couldn't very well walk away. I pulled out a dollar, scooped up the little tootsie roll, and dropped it in the trash bin. There was George Washington's face staring back at me.
A while later, we circled back through Washington Square Park and there was a tremendous swarm of fireflies. Little Simon thought he was in a dance club. He chased them. He barked.
He's got moves.