Poop

My apartment complex has this one particular rule that I never follow: you have to clean up after your dog. I hate picking up dog poo. It's gross, it's smelly and sticky, and nasty, and even with a bag on my hand, I can't stand the texture of the stuff. So, every time my dog (Penelope Laine) goes number two on the grass outside my door, I look the other way, make sure there's no maintenance guys or conscientious neighbors around, and leave the mess on the lawn. I figure, next time it rains, which seems like all the time this month, it'll dissolve the mess and dissipate it, destroying the evidence. So, today, when I took Penny out, she did her business and as she does so, I hear the voice of my upstairs neighbor from their balcony. Let me describe this neighbor. He is a tall, lanky guy, with a ton of black tattoos all over his shoulders, and he normally wears a pair of Wranglers, held up by a leather belt with a buckle the size of my head, along with a tucked in white wifebeater. So, I hear this guy talking on the phone, and the comment he says to his listening audience that floats down to my already somewhat cranky ears is something to this effect, "aw, now that b---- downstairs isn't even going to f---ing clean up her dog crap, again!" This did not make me happy. I stormed back inside with my puppy, and immediately complained to Andrew, my fiance, about the insensitive comment. I then got ready to go run an errand to Hobby Lobby I had already planned on doing, all the while fuming about the comment. I thought about all the ways the situation could have gone, and came up with witty, biting comments I could have said back rather than just passively letting him insult me like that. The best one I came up with was, in so many words, "How about you shut up, go to the nearest liquor store, get yourself another case of Bud Light, beat your girlfriend and stay the heck out of my business, ya dumb redneck!?!?!" (I know, looking back on it, it's not even that great of an insult.) I was extremely angry at this guy's insensitivity.

Then, as I perused the aisles of Hobby Lobby, looking for felt, canvas, and other such crafty items I needed, I realized I wasn't really mad at the neighbor for his comment. I was mad that he had called me out on my not following the rules. I was irked because he drew attention to my already nagging voice that always shows up in the back of my head that tells me I should suck it up and pick up the poo. The dumpster really is only 100 feet or so from the grass anyways, so I wouldn't even have to carry it that far. Just because it's a rule I don't like doesn't mean I get to ignore it. I don't really like stopping all the way at stop signs, but my personal happiness doesn't really matter to any cop that pulls me over for barrelling through an intersection. Rules are rules, and we are to "give to Caesar what is Caesar's. (Matt. 22:21)" This means that, as long as a rule put in place by man doesn't go against what God has required, we need to follow it.

Then, I thought about it more. I was the insensitive one. I've stepped in dog poo myself on more than one occassion, and it's very inconvenient. If it's so terrible for me, why should I leave a whole new fresh pile of it there for someone else to step in? If I'm supposed to be learning how to "love [my] neighbor as [myself] (Mark 12:31)," shouldn't I practice one of the most disgusting tasks known to me as a way to serve them? Even more than that, how am I being a witness to the change in my life that belief in Jesus brings if I'm disregarding these simple rules? What if my not-so-pleasant neighbor overheard me talking to someone on the phone, as I went on and on about how great church is, and how much about God I'm learning, all the while leaving Penny's mess on the grass? That does nothing more than perpetuate the already prevalent opinion that Christians are hypocrites, and are just as self-centered as anyone else. It makes the hope and love that the Gospels talk about look like nothing more than just a story, rather than a life-changing fact. I'm not saying that my picking up poo would help bring my neighbor to belief, since no one can do that but God, despite my poor witness. But, I could at the very least, try to change his opinion of what a Christian is based on my actions. Needless to say, I'll be carrying a baggie in my pocket from now on, just in case.