whose woods are these? they mine, be-otch!


Last night I took Petey to Carkeek for the first time.  We live really close to the southeast entrance, a nice trail that leads down to the water.   He’s finally good enough on the leash to handle longer, more complicated walks, so the walk was fun for both of us.    And, as Petey does in most places he hasn’t been, he peed on everything.   He laid claim to blackberry bushes left and right, stopping to pee every hundred feet or so.  About a quarter of the way into our walk he was just lifting his leg, squirting nothing but air to mark his place.  He did whatever he had to to make the trail his.  


Dogs are like that.  They mark their territory in the best way they know how.  It’s really a pretty interesting system, if you think about it.  I mean, they’re claiming something they’ve never seen before by making a stinky mess of it.    Reminds me a little of yesterday morning. 

When I got ready to leave for work I noticed that my car door was ajar.  Shut, but not latched.  The dome light was on.  I thought for sure I was going to start the day with a dead battery.  I cursed myself for not shutting the door all the way.  It was about then that I realized the door was unlocked.  I always lock my doors.  Always.

The glove box was open.  The console was open.  Papers had been shifted around.  Thankfully, nothing was missing (though I don’t keep anything of value in my car anyway).  CDs were still there.  The stereo is stock, so there’s no way anyone would want to swipe it.   I checked the trunk.  Everything was in place.   There was even change in the ashtray left untouched.

I was–am–lucky.  It could have been much worse.  All the same, someone had peed in my territory.

I feel violated and a little dirty.  I mean, someone opened my car door, likely sat in the seat, and dug around in my stuff.  I’m a somewhat possessive person.  It’s taken a lot for me to amass the things I have and when someone messes with those things, I get a little more than uncomfortable.  Just seeing little Rebecca, one and a half, pick up my knick-knacks a few weeks ago was unsettling.  

But this person entered without asking, ignored all boundaries both social and geographical and entered my space.  And not only did they enter it, they left their stinky mark, their clumsy mess.  They could have closed the glove box and console, been a little more careful with the papers and shut and locked the car door on their way out.  I never would have known.  

Instead, though, they peed.  And the fetid odor is stuck in my nostrils.


Author: Kim Sharp

more later

2 thoughts on “whose woods are these? they mine, be-otch!

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