Mr. Peepers

My dog, Bette, has a weird thing she does when we go out for a walk. Bette likes to poop and pee as close to people's houses as possible. Not just close to the house, but close to a window or a door. I think it might be a schnauzer thing because the late Sasha did something similar. Every time Sasha was off the leash she would run up to a neighbor's door and sit there. Anyway, the other night I was walking little Bette, trying to coax a tiny turd loaf out of her. She had already run up to my neighbor Diane's house, but it just wasn't right that evening. Next, she tried Diane's next door neighbor. Again, wandering right up to the front window, but rejecting it as un-poopworthy. It was just as Bette and I stepped out from the neighbor's yard that a police car came cruising by... slowly. I, being a sixty five year old white guy, gave it no thought. Cops don't screw with old white guys. Did I mention it was after dark and I was carrying a flashlight? Bette and I walked a little further down the street, to the corner and the house owned by two guys from Delaware. It is their winter home, and it being summer I knew that they wouldn't be home. So I let Bette wander on up to the house, right on up to the windows, where she proceeded to do her little poopy dance. Around and around until just the right spot, just the right combination of grass texture and aroma came together. Bette pooped. As soon as she finished I bent over and picked up her turd pile, and then I picked up Bette. She does not walk home, Bette gets carried. That was when I noticed that the police car was now parked on the wrong side of the street, half hidden by a shrub. He was watching me. So I quickly walked back towards home with Bette in my arms. As I turned the corner I came face to face with another cop car. It seems that the original cop had called in backup. I'm sure the cops thought I was some kind of peeping Tom, but like I said, I'm sixty five, white, and I was carrying a miniature schnauzer in my arms.