Two weeks ago yesterday, Flannista drove with the Sassistas! dog, Huckleberry, to Patuxent National Wildlife Refuge to pay homage to the one-week anniversary of Gwendolyn's death. Huckleberry and I were only ten-minutes into our hike when he decided to drop his business for all the world to see. Fortunately, I had brought a couple of plastic bags in the event this happened and scooped up what he dropped. Unfortunately, I then noticed the sign that informed me that the refuge had no trash cans and hikers were responsible "to take out what they bring in".
Damn if I was going to carry a load of dog sh!t on a hike to honor Gwendolyn in addition to handling Huckleberry. When I sensed we were safely out of eyesight, I tossed the plastic bag and its contents into a thick mass of trees, bushes and weeds (see the precise location below):

Within a minute, I saw a refuge patrol car. Thinking quickly, I took out the other plastic bag, filled it with the dog biscuits I had stuck in my left shorts pocket and held the bag as though it were full of dog sh!t. The ranger stopped. I noticed him closely scrutinizing the bag. Then I heard myself say this: "I am here today to honor a beloved friend who died one week ago of a rare and aggressive form of ovarian cancer. Is there something you need from me?"
The ranger instantly put his head down and apologized: "I'm so sorry to disturb you," he said. "I'll leave you alone right away."
"Thank you," I said, haltingly. The ranger drove away. I continued my hike with Huckleberry.
It didn't take long, of course, before I was filled with guilt. I had thrown a non-decomposable plastic bag filled with dog sh!t into what I imagined was a safe haven for all types of rare wildlife. Further, I had used Gwen's death to get the ranger out of my face. I practically ran the rest of the way, fully expecting to see the ranger next to my car holding the bag of dog sh!t at the end of the hike.
He wasn't there. But my guilt was and remained.
So yesterday, overwhelmed by all the unfinished business of my life that has emerged during this time of grief for Tim and Gwendolyn (and a sh!t load of other losses), I returned to the Patuxent National Wildlife Refuge without Huckleberry. I hiked to the thicket where I believed I had tossed the plastic bag, took a deep breath and went in, not expecting to find it.
In less than a minute I found it, fittingly hanging from a thorn. I gently pulled it off and carried it back to my car where I placed it underneath the driver's door. I continued on my hike, stopping several times to watch the flora and fauna and occasionally taking photos. When I returned to my car, I tossed the plastic bag and the dog sh!t into the back of my car and disposed of them properly.
I had, at least, completed that business.
Above is a photo I took while walking around Cash Lake at the Patuxent National Wildlife Refuge.
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