rondak46
New member
Cascade/ Porter 3-1-04
As soon as I checked in at the trail register, I heard a strange, high-pitched noise or a voice. I wanted to just ignore it, but, although I didn't understand what was said, it was clearly someone speaking. I walked slowly and quietly and heard the noise again, a little more clearly this time. After again hearing the noise, which now sounded like it was saying "Help, over here!", I realized that, whatever it was, was in my line of sight and that I was close, but I just wasn’t seeing it. "Help. over here", I heard again and I continued slowly up the trail. A few steps further and I heard " AHHHHHGHH! Stop, I'm down here". I looked down and there was hot dog sized turd on the ground, calling to me, saying "Don't step on me, everyone keeps stepping on me".
I was astonished! A talking turd! In the middle of the trail. I asked why he was in the middle of the trail, and he told me to get him off the trail and he would explain. So I picked up the turd, and brushed some of the snow off of it. I said "Who are you and what the hell are you doing out on this trail in the middle of winter".
He said: "Howdy, I'm Mr. Hanky, the Christmas Poo. And I need your help. I was off to the side of the trial here, where I was safely placed just after Christmas, and the snow started to melt! As it melts, it exposes all the dog turds left on the trail! Crampons, snowshoes and bareboots come along all day long and make mincemeat and mush out of all the poor turds on the trail. So I heard all the screaming and commotion and came over here to see if I could help. No one was paying attention to all the turds complaints because they aren't human turds like me, they are dog turds."
"Well Mr. Hanky", I said. "What can I do about it? I don't have a dog and I can't stay here and tell everyone to keep there dog from doing their business on the trail".
"Well" he said, "leaving dog turds to get torn up and mushed apart on hiking trails is just not sanitary, and it's just not right; look at they way they are all suffering".
I looked around and sure enough, there they were. It was a warm sunny day and it appeared that, with the melting snow, dog turds that were deposited early in the winter and were quickly firmed up by the cold weather, and buried under foot, were now being exposed to the elements again. In the short distance I could see why Mr. Hanky was so upset. There were turds all over; mashed turds, smeared turds, turds that have lost hands and feet, and worse!
Mr. Hanky told me that it was too late for all these forlorn and forgotten turds. He then told me that he wanted me to go back to all the people that take their dogs out on trails, and tell them to put their dog turds in a special place, just like people do for their own turds. "It’s very unsanitary to have dog turds spend their final months on this earth on a foot path, and it’s just not right", he said. "Turds are people too" he said, "and people need to find a more dignified final resting place for their dog turds, other than a footpath". I agreed and Mr. Hanky let me go after telling him that I would tell all the hikers out there what he wanted them to know.
So I left Mr. hanky, but as I was leaving he reminded me to clean between all my toes everyday. I thanked him for the tip and I waved goodbye. He waved back and I continued on the trail.
So there it is folks. Mr. Hanky wants everyone to do something better with their dog turds, something other than leaving them on footpaths.
I am just the messenger, so I f you need to talk to Mr. hanky, you know where to find him.
Mike
As soon as I checked in at the trail register, I heard a strange, high-pitched noise or a voice. I wanted to just ignore it, but, although I didn't understand what was said, it was clearly someone speaking. I walked slowly and quietly and heard the noise again, a little more clearly this time. After again hearing the noise, which now sounded like it was saying "Help, over here!", I realized that, whatever it was, was in my line of sight and that I was close, but I just wasn’t seeing it. "Help. over here", I heard again and I continued slowly up the trail. A few steps further and I heard " AHHHHHGHH! Stop, I'm down here". I looked down and there was hot dog sized turd on the ground, calling to me, saying "Don't step on me, everyone keeps stepping on me".
I was astonished! A talking turd! In the middle of the trail. I asked why he was in the middle of the trail, and he told me to get him off the trail and he would explain. So I picked up the turd, and brushed some of the snow off of it. I said "Who are you and what the hell are you doing out on this trail in the middle of winter".
He said: "Howdy, I'm Mr. Hanky, the Christmas Poo. And I need your help. I was off to the side of the trial here, where I was safely placed just after Christmas, and the snow started to melt! As it melts, it exposes all the dog turds left on the trail! Crampons, snowshoes and bareboots come along all day long and make mincemeat and mush out of all the poor turds on the trail. So I heard all the screaming and commotion and came over here to see if I could help. No one was paying attention to all the turds complaints because they aren't human turds like me, they are dog turds."
"Well Mr. Hanky", I said. "What can I do about it? I don't have a dog and I can't stay here and tell everyone to keep there dog from doing their business on the trail".
"Well" he said, "leaving dog turds to get torn up and mushed apart on hiking trails is just not sanitary, and it's just not right; look at they way they are all suffering".
I looked around and sure enough, there they were. It was a warm sunny day and it appeared that, with the melting snow, dog turds that were deposited early in the winter and were quickly firmed up by the cold weather, and buried under foot, were now being exposed to the elements again. In the short distance I could see why Mr. Hanky was so upset. There were turds all over; mashed turds, smeared turds, turds that have lost hands and feet, and worse!
Mr. Hanky told me that it was too late for all these forlorn and forgotten turds. He then told me that he wanted me to go back to all the people that take their dogs out on trails, and tell them to put their dog turds in a special place, just like people do for their own turds. "It’s very unsanitary to have dog turds spend their final months on this earth on a foot path, and it’s just not right", he said. "Turds are people too" he said, "and people need to find a more dignified final resting place for their dog turds, other than a footpath". I agreed and Mr. Hanky let me go after telling him that I would tell all the hikers out there what he wanted them to know.
So I left Mr. hanky, but as I was leaving he reminded me to clean between all my toes everyday. I thanked him for the tip and I waved goodbye. He waved back and I continued on the trail.
So there it is folks. Mr. Hanky wants everyone to do something better with their dog turds, something other than leaving them on footpaths.
I am just the messenger, so I f you need to talk to Mr. hanky, you know where to find him.
Mike
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