My dog the recycler
We’ve gone green around here. It didn’t take Gore et al to convince the family; putting the blue out with the green makes good environmental sense. Unlike more progressive places like the Island, this city works with the concept of two large bins. Fill one with the grotty and the other with the “soon to be a new product for your use”. Nothing difficult, and we feel better about our overconsumption. A winning model.
Even the dog has decided to do her part, without any coaching or “here, have a tasteless biscuit” compensation. Every day, we discover some new way that she’s become involved as a furry “love our planet” canine. Why, only this afternoon she discovered a plastic bag filled with styrofoam peanuts from a recent delivery, misfiled in the blue box. Did she sit idly by? Not for a minute. It was clear to son #1 when he returned from work this afternoon that the dog wanted us to realize how we’d failed the system, because she’d removed the offending package and then she’d spread it evenly in chewed up pieces over the living room carpet. Not exactly recycled, but at least they’ll be in smaller bits when the incinerator takes over.
She is an equally apt proponent of natural fertilization. Any time of day or night, we find ourselves outside while she chooses another section of the lawn to sow with naturally produced nitrogen bits. We don’t have to worry about those hated yellow splotches; she is slowly but surely doing a very even job.
Another aspect of her “green spirit” is the idea that random pieces of cardboard (think paper towel rolls) should be masticated into a dog-world version of papier-maché. So far we’ve not found any sculptures, but she’s still a young artist. At least when a moist pile of something attaches itself to your heel, you know who to praise.
I’m not sure about this recently discovered love of Mason jars. Perhaps she is suggesting reuse, or else she doesn’t understand the rules for clear versus tinted glass in the recycling world. I’m sure that all will be revealed in time.
