Sparky is very conscientious, but when we are blanketed with snow, he practices festival pooping.  When the snow melts, it’s a mine field.  The snow is gone, but it’s 22o and sunny.  Cleaning up his debris is as easy as picking up golf balls at a driving range.

Sparky is baffled by my actions.  To him, every frozen turd is a friend he hasn’t met yet.