The Mystery Pooper

Newsletter 2020-08-03

I've been struck by the worst kind of criminal. Something—or [someone]—has been pooping on my enclosed back porch. For once, the chief suspect in an act of vandalism isn’t a member of my family. All the small creatures in my house of both the human and animal varieties are fully housebroken, even if the human ones still sometimes have accidents. If you don’t wait until the last possible second to sprint to the bathroom, are you even in preschool? A few weeks ago, brown surprises of an unknown origin began to appear on my back porch. They didn’t match any of my pets or (thank goodness) children. I had to get to the bottom of whose bottom these were coming from. I refuse to be a pooper scooper for strangers.

I might not have the nicest enclosed back porch in the world, but it certainly doesn’t deserve to be pooped on. When my house was built a hundred years ago, the back porch was open to the elements. Years later, someone threw up some walls around it and called it a room. It’s really n…