Today's prize goes to the bushy-white-haired bastard down the block. I was walking Rosco alone (my wife took Gracie to the horse stables to play with another insane puppy), and he squatted to do his thing. As I whipped out a grocery bag and started dutifully scooping it up, the old man came up to me and asked, "Did you get it all?"
Dog walkers recognize this as code for I don't trust you to pick up after your dog. As a responsible dog owner who has lived here for ten years, I don't deserve that. Bite me, you dumb, old bastard. Congratulations, you've just made yourself a new enemy for what remains of your rotten life. Next time, maybe I'll be the one squatting in your yard. Or on your porch.
Here's the kicker. This bastard's house is the eyesore of the block. The stucco is deteriorating by the minute. There is exposed wood on the front where the stucco is gone completely. The west wall has been covered in Tyvek sheeting for at least five years. And he's worried about a stray chunk of dog crap on his precious lawn? Fix up your damned house and then f*** yourself.