Scoopa D'Poop Daily

          Cleaning up dog poop might not be everyone’s idea of a good time, but in Peyton, Colorado, even the most mundane tasks come with breathtaking views and a touch of adventure. Yesterday, Athea and I took on a big job: poop scooping in this rural wonderland. As we got to work, we were greeted by the most stunning vistas—majestic mountains to the west and endless plains stretching east. The sky was an artwork of fluffy clouds lazily drifting by. My mind drifted to what this scene must look like while distant thunderstorms or even a tornado or two meander across the plains, what a show that must be. The job itself was a mix of hard work and pure enjoyment. Horses grazed nearby, adding a serene backdrop to our efforts. Each time we headed back to the truck, a friendly neighbor dog would come to his fence to say hello, adding a touch of charm and lots of barks to our day.                Armed with a larg...

The dog poop was lurking under the shade of the trampoline, hoping I wouldn’t notice. Nice try, pal—I spotted that rogue turd from across the yard, huddled together with the usual suspects... those turds. They had to be up to something. I tiptoed over, ears open, trying to catch their dirty dealings. No luck—just a foul breeze drifting by, threatening my gag reflex. I knew this wasn’t a one-person job, so I rallied the troops: Ronnie (my trusty right hand), the Kneepad Twins, and the rest of the crew—OJ Bucket and KB (Kitchen Bag) included. Most importantly, Louie Glove was ready for hand-to-turd combat. We decided to approach from the back, entering the shady underworld beneath the trampoline. This was no bright and bouncy playground—more like a dank, dark arena where the stink factor was off the charts. A lone beagle howled in the distance, sending chills down my spine. I had a feeling we’d find more trouble as we crawled deeper. The turds never saw us coming. Louie Glove was f...