Conspiring Dogs

Today the temperature is supposed to reach a high of -2. When we got up this morning, it was a brisk -10 out, with the wind-chill making it more like -27. Dan and I rock, paper, scissored to see who had to take the dogs out. I always said that I wasn't going to get a dog until I lived somewhere that I could just let them out the door and then let them back in when they were done with their business. So much for that plan. We live in a condo complex with two other buildings close by. And not everyone is as fond of dogs as we are. I think that the worse part is picking up their dog poop. Because the dogs haven't learned not to jump on people when they first meet them, we have to keep them on leashes. So there I am, holding two leashes in one hand, bending over to pick up the dog poop with my other hand, trying not to get any poop on my hand, and both dogs decide that now is the best time to run off at full speed, and decide not to stop when they get to the end of the leash. I should mention that both dogs weigh in around 60 lbs at this point. I have a feeling that the dogs are now conspiring against me, and communicate with each other to plan out the perfect time so that both the poop and I go flying. Yeah, fun times.