A little bit about poop

I have a weird new obsession; I hoarde quality poop bags. When Diesel and I go for walks on the trails around the nearby lake, I fill my pockets with the greatest poop bag ever: the Mutt Mitt. After so many depressing trudges with thin, flimsy, holey grocery store bags, I now walk longer, further, faster because I have the Mutt Mitt! No poop will touch me!

What's so great about the Mutt Mitt is implied in it's name - the key is the mitt action. The Mutt Mitt is like a bag-shaped glove, no finger holes or anything, but when you put your hand inside, the bottom stretches open. You grab the load and then simply remove the bag from your hand in reverse, like sanitary procedure with a surgical glove.

Beyond the awesomely functional shape, the thickness of the plastic is what makes the whole mitt action bearable. Even a double-ply grocery bag leaves too much texture to be felt, too much of an 'omigod I'm touching poop, I'm touching poop!' feeling. Anyone with dog poop removal experience is well aware of the magical range of textures the product can come in - I will refrain from discussing them here except to pull out the tired claim that the Inuit people have a gazillion words for snow based on each kind's unique characteristics. We all know dog poop could also benefit from a range of descriptive names, but I think I would need a cocktail in hand to engage in that level of creativity. I'm sure a quick Google - which I do not recommend - would provide some other fecal-focused mind's vocabulary list on this topic.

Anyway, the delight of the Mutt Mitt is the solid, defending, i'm-here-for-you-honey layer of plastic between your hand and his gift. The 'mitt' portion of the bag is doubly thick and black - so there are few visual reminders of the bag's contents once the flip and seal is complete. And if I may take one tiny step too far into the true experience of picking up poop, the double layer of black protects you from the temperature of the cargo, avoiding the little lurch of the belly when you have to admit you are not only picking up poop, but picking up steaming, body-temperature poop freshly escaped from your furry friend.

I have purposely avoided researching the Mutt Mitt's claim of degradability, knowing deep down that when I look it up the standards of biodegradability that I should be considering as I throw plastic into the trash are unlikely to be met. But I Love This Poop Bag. And so I will accept 'degradable' as a wonderful thing and allow my naivety to keep my guilt at bay.

The rambling length of the paragraphs above should show my love for these poop bags. But now I'm spoiled. I struggle with issues of right-and-wrong as I stare at the freshly stocked dispensers at the park and long to grab and go. I glance furtively around to see if anyone is watching as I grab one, two, three...never more than that! Well, never more than that in one passing. For a while I had only a few precious Mutt Mitts in my possession and carefully doled them out using the forthcoming Inuit guide to dog poop textures, judging the necessity of a mitt based both on quality of dropping and distance to trash can.

Now that I've started hoarding them, I have them stowed everywhere. In my purse, in my rain coat pocket, in my winter coat pocket, under my car seat, in my cup holder. I treat them like the precious gifts I believe them to be - when I remove each one I carefully fold it into a neat rectangular shape and slide it flat into my pocket. I feel a stab of anger and confusion when I see the Mutt Mitts that come out of my boyfriend's pockets - stretched and wrinkled and crumpled as if they were just another bag from the RiteAid. I secretly go behind him and smooth out the plastic, triaging and trying to give my little bag friend the dignity he deserves for the heroic service he offers.

I dream of one day splurging at the snooty pet store and buying my own case of Mutt Mitts, an endless stream of mitts with no hoarding and no fear of sharing. But c'mon - they're poop bags. Who can afford to spend their money on that?

UPDATE 2012: I have owned my own supply of Mutt Mitts for over a year. Last Christmas I bought in bulk and every dog owner I meet under the Christmas tree received a travel pack. I'll never go back.