We live along the Blackstone Valley Bike Path in Rhode Island. It is one of the nicest places to walk along the Blackstone River and catch glimpses of an ever-changing variety of birds and animals.

Unfortunately,  intellectually challenged versions of the world’s most dangerous animal also frequent the path. They are easy to spot as they are always accompanied by dogs.

Now, before anyone gets their panties in a bunch, I am a dog person. Most rational humans are. Cats are not my idea of a good companion. However, cats are innocent here.

Apparently, these two-legged morons are the perfect example of why we have what appear to be unnecessary and demeaning warning labels on things. For example, warnings that packing peanuts (those appetizing white plastic pellets) are not for human consumption.  Good thing we have that one because I am often overcome with a desire for a nice bowl of packing peanuts.

Or, warnings on a stove that “surface may be hot.” If the surface “may” be hot, why would you buy the stove?

But I digress. What both irritates and confuses me is how these defective humans apparently cannot understand the purpose of dog waste bags.

The bike path is littered with bags designed to pick up and DISPOSE of dog waste. But these prime examples of how nature sometimes takes a genetic bad turn fail to understand this.

They dutifully follow their dogs, waiting for the inevitable Alpo evacuation. Ever notice how what goes in the front of the dog bears a strong resemblance to what comes out the other end?  It’s not so much as they eat the food as it takes a subway tunnel through the dog and reappears at the other end.

Anyway, after the dog does his thing, be it the direct stop and go or the circle, circle, sniff, sniff, circle, circle, sniff, circle, sniff, circle, sniff, target acquired and fire method of eliminating their Kibbles and Bits, their handlers spring into action.

They insert their hand into the waste bag, approach the pile (upwind I hope), envelop the dollop in the bag, spin and seal, then LEAVE IT ON THE PATH.

What the Covfefe, as the President would say.

I mean if you will not follow through with the full steps of disposal (which illustrates the consequences of a lack of instructions on the bag) then leave the poop ‘au naturel’ and let nature take over where your intellect fails.

Think of this next time you see a shitbag on the bike path. Tell him (or her) to read the instructions. Better yet, take their dog and give them a cat. They’re not fit to care for a sentient creature.