The Midnight Crapper

Well, I’ve got to sneak in to keep from tooin’,
And I’m bound to keep on poopin’.
And I’ve got one more fence to clear now,
But I’m not gonna let ’em catch me, no,
Not gonna let ’em catch the Midnight Crapper.

I love my fence backyard.  So does ZoeB.  But we’re not the only ones; for the past few weeks, every time I head out in the early morning I’ve seen…presents.    No, not alongside the garden.  Not under the deck.  Not even by the gate.  Right in the middle of the yard, as if to say Tada!

No, I haven’t stepped in any of ’em yet.  And no, I won’t post any pictures — you’re welcome, Internet — but let’s just say I’ve gotten more than a little perturbed by the whole mess.  ZoeB doesn’t seem interested in these prezzies, thank goodness.  It could be because she’s so excited to be outside, it could be because she’s almost 10 and her sense of smell is going.  But I have noticed she’s starting to sit by various places near the fence, staring at it as if to dare it to crap.

I can only assume that that’s where The Midnight Crapper sneaks in, under cover of darkness.  It’s either that, or s/he pops up on top of the fence and then hops down.  No seriously, I’ve seen cats around here do that, bouncing from a lower fence to a higher one…and it’s pretty awesome, except when there’s poop in my yard.

I’ve smooshed mulch under the cracks between fence & ground, hoping that’ll keep the yard free of bombs.  And every time I clear out a gift, I use a little shovel that is now reserved just for that purpose and wing it over the fence onto Red’s backyard. Y’know, for the junkies.

It’s the gift that keeps on giving.


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