Even though the winds were gusty and the temps low, it was a fine day to go for a long walk. My walking friend and I had a lot of catching up to do, news-wise, and the ginkgo trees were at their supreme fall moment, turning the sidewalks and curbs to that wondrous golden yellow.

Hardly anyone else was out, given the cold, except for a man sweeping his driveway up ahead. People are generally very friendly on this route, but he ducked back into his garage. After we passed his drive, we noticed the smell. We both stopped to inspect our shoes, didn’t see anything. The smell prevailed over the next couple of blocks till I stopped and looked again. Surely one of us had stepped in something. Yes, there in the treads.

My friend decided that the man was cleaning away some dog poop. Surprisingly, a lot of dog owners don’t bother to pick up after their pets. Still.

The way home was simply the reverse route. Deep in conversation, we didn’t notice till we walked through the driveway again. This time, we took a close look. It appeared that the sweeper merely spread the stuff around. There was no way to avoid it unless we went into the street.

There was an incident recently, my friend said, when a construction worker client came into her office. The toxic smell that accompanied him throughout the office complex (over several stories) was so pervasive that a pregnant woman in a waiting room was moved to a different area for her safety.

Turned out that the guy had stepped in poop, and being in a hurry for his appointment, reached for the nearest solvent. The combination of diesel fuel and dog feces almost emptied the building.