It was an unfortunate accident. I was walking my parents' dog when our German shepherd decided to take a massive dump.
"Yeah, good luck with that," Aussie said with his eyes on the pile.
I did my best to scoop it up, but he pulled the leash and disaster struck. My right hand was covered in dog poop.
I panicked, my body went into survival mode. I hurried back, carrying the bag and awkwardly hiding my poop-smudged hand for passersby.
Once home, I washed my hands three, four, five times. I lost count.
I took a long shower. I washed my hands some more. I started to calm down, but I still had this compulsive thought that I was dirty. Even though there was no trace of dog poop left.
Why am I telling you this story? I'll admit it, I hesitated pressing "publish" on this one. But then I thought about it.
We all have our own version of "dog poop on our hands". Life throws shit at us and it's up to us to take care of it.
Lesson learned: Don't make the dog poop worse than it is. Focus your energy on fixing the problem. Then go on with your day.
Have a good week!
PS. I share Mark Ruffalo's fear. What a nightmare!