Pets ‘n Trash
Ages ago when Covid made its first ugly appearance, the world went into a surreal lockdown. Yet, most of us continued to walk our dogs. Having gotten used to their daily ritual, dogs wouldn’t have it any other way. Before Covid, my wife and I and B.P. ( short for Bunny’s Pet, the English black lab we got for our recently deceased and muchly mourned Black Lab mix - Bunny) and Bert (short for Roberta our spry, Jack Russel - Basset Hound mix) would walk the streets of our little town barely aware of the litter we passed. That has changed. B.P. has since passed. Our new rescue dog (a pit/spaniel/ dalmation/terrier mix) Fidget has joined us and we have become, well … trash pickers.
Our church has done an annual trash pick-up on a rural Pennsylvania road for, oh gosh, since God was a corporal. We did a pick-up just as Covid hit. On that day there were two of us. Carl, my fellow picker-upper, the lead custodian of a local retirement community, loaned me a trigger operated trash grabber for the day. When we’d finished he gifted the tool to me. I took it home and dropped it in a corner. The next day when Jenny and I readied our dogs for their walk I spied the grabber and suggested that we pick up trash along the way. She thought it a wonderful idea, grabbed a plastic grocery bag and we were off on an adventure that has yet to end.
For three years we have been pulled along by our dogs, as we scarf up all the litter along the way. Might as well give our dog walks a dual purpose. Some days we reap as many as five to six bags of garbage on a single walk. We reckon we have easily collected a ton or more from our local streets. We empty along the way in public receptacles or private receptacles when they are available. It has never been a chore, quite the opposite. It has become an anticipated event, a contest and our daily good deed. Moreover we have come to realize our streets have become increasingly cleaner. We see much less trash than there used to be because it has no time to accumulate.
What do we pick up? EVERYTHING! Primarily, plastic bottles, fast food cups. and aluminum cans. It’s hard to believe the number of water bottles we find pitched - unopened or missing only a single sip. At the height of the pandemic we made a game out of collecting masks, big ones, small ones, fancy ones, plain ones. One day we garnered a grand total of 48 masks. Lately that has been reduced to one or two a day. A day doesn’t go by that we don’t pick up at least one glove and or one sock, at least one Slim Jim wrapper and one or two Fireball liquor bottles. One day we found an entire set of underwear (Would like to know the story behind that).
We make a game of it, creating our own trash collecting lexicon. Something sizeable worth picking up is a “thing” or a “thingy.” Something that is quite small but still worth picking up is a “fractional.” For the longest time I considered straws less than fractionals. They were frustratingly difficult to pick up with the grabber so we left them lie. Now I can’t bear to pass them up and pick ‘em up by hand.
We also collect treasures along the way. Partial dollar bills, as well as two dollars worth of change - largely pennies. People seem to consider the copper coins trash. Proper ettiquette when finding a penny is always to present it to a companion and the good luck that goes along with it. We were once presented with a dozen fresh muffins as we passed a baker unloading his wares. We have found books, hats, random tools, an unopened tube of caulking, a flag bracket, cucumbers, bananas and frequently, unopened bags of snacks … and an avocado!
My favorites however, are the “computer toys” we discover. Scattered about my desk are a myriad of tiny toys gathered from our international travels and from our local streets. I hold them and play with them when writer’s block sets in. I’ve picked up a stuffed mouse, a doll’s high heel shoe, three tiny train cars, a Japanese big headed boy, a standing racoon, a pouncing cat a frog puppet, a tyrannosaur, a transparent alien, a little girl magnet, and a large letter “V.” These proudly take their place beside my rubber chicken, my tiny metal Buddha and my miniature statue of Teddy Roosevelt.
Don’t smirk. Everyone has there ideosyncrasies.
So, off we go, day after day two to three miles per day. Not wanting to constantly take the same boring route, we switch it up and have covered, literally, every street in town. At times, we even take our picker-upper to visit surrounding towns. We do have a favorite path which we call a “Standard Walk.” And on occasion we shake that up too by doing a “Reverse Standard Walk.”
Along the way we’ve gotten to know all the dogs in town. Some streets are “Barksalot” streets. At times the cacaphony of captive animals is loud enough to wake the dead. Of some dogs we never see more than blurs behind windows; others, we see only noses beneath their fences; still others are built on springs and we see just their heads bobbing along over the tops of their fences.
When we meet others walking their pets we call a “Dog Alert!” Some are “yappies,” others are the “growlies.” We have to assess whether to cross the street or allow nose rubbing. One of our favorite “other-dog” experiences is the “Peke House” where a pack of five or six or seven Pekinese. stand sentry duty in a bay window - who knows how many there are as they are nothing but a flurry of furries.
When this all started, we got to know our neighborhood paper delivery woman who carted her papers and her youngsters in a wagon dragged behind her. A friendly conscientious woman, she carefully placed each paper on porches where they belonged. She has since been replaced by someone we have never met because he delivers from the seat of his car, without ever leaving it. Papers now end up in bushes, on the sidewalk in the gutter and at times beneath other cars. We assist as we can, retrieving them from the gutter and tossing them closer to their proper destination.
Please don’t misunderstand me. I write this not to be recognized as a do-gooder, but to possibly encourage others to do the same. Can you imagine what our streets would look like if there were an army of trash pickers out there? Rarely but occasionally a passing driver or pedestrian will offer their thanks for our efforts. Once a policeman actually halted his cruiser to thank us. The comments are cool, but you know what? Just the act of pitching in and doing our part for the community is all the thanks we need. Of course on our walks, our dogs would appreciate it if we didn’t stop quite so often. ; )