Where's the poop?

Scooping rat terrier poop can be a difficult job in the Pacific Northwest, especially the day after an autumn windstorm. Even under good circumstances those tiny little turds look very similar to the hefty slugs we Washingtonians are famous for.

Yesterday we had windstorms here with gust up to 60 mph. The result this morning is a yard scattered with a few thousand fir cones, also similar in size and shape of said rattie turds. Then to make it even more difficult there is a thin layer of fir needles covering everything. It is a "Where's Waldo?" hunt of epic proportions.

What wasn't difficult to find - in fact the 6 bRats ran straight for it - was the flat dead, rotting bird that blew out of some tree and into the upper landscaped area. Yuck.

I love windstorms but hate the aftermath.