Secondly, as Scotty and I were rounding a corner of the local park trail, Scotty dropped a poop, I went fishing in my pocket for a poop bag and came up empty handed. If there had been no witnesses, I might have just kept on moving, as we were in the park and illegal poops litter the place like cylindrical mushrooms. We were not. Yet, before I could panic, I looked to my right and noticed, not two feet away, a plastic shopping bag that looked like it may have dropped out of the pocket of an earlier dog walker. I picked it up and fulfilled its destiny.
Water into wine. Narcissism-killing newspaper articles. Magic poop bags.
The Universe speaks. It says, "Ask and you shall receive. Until you die."