Getting rid of the evidence
There is no tasteful way to broach the subject. Living creatures come with an “ick factor”. We all eat, periodically. And as a corollary, we all have to get rid of the waste.
Go ahead: check with the dog. On second thought, don’t. He has a worry free aporoach to things. Convince the human that he needs to closely examine near trees and shrubbery, and then “take care of business”. If the choice is wrong, the human will dig into an available pocket and take out colourful compostable sacks. The “calling card” will be disposed of, discreetly, eventually.
Now, humans are much better prepared. Whole engineered systems to keep the nasty details out of view. Why, for a fee, someone will drop by and take the waste and the money. As I said, a system.
Which brings me to a parallel universe. All across the nation, people are driving around in “almost a home, with wheels”. The secret is that they’re all seeking a sign that they, too, can get rid of stuff. The code phrase is “dumping station”. There are whole websites with maps and driving directions. There are books containing “the lore of the nomad”. There are, I imagine, places where the size of the holding tank takes on a new significance.
we still haven’t used all the features in our rig, but my education includes process. I want to know before I go. In fact, that should be printed on tee shirts and marketed to the target audience. They know who they are.
