Check out this video I found on YouTube

February 6, 2008 at 7:36 pm | Posted in Video | Comments Off on Check out this video I found on YouTube


The nonexistent and omnipresent poop

February 6, 2008 at 5:18 pm | Posted in Puppy | 10 Comments

Sammy has grown into this routine where he will ONLY POOP AT THE DOG PARK! And since the weather is predicting three days of rain and we spent yesterday at the dog park catching pneumonia in a thunder storm, I decided that this morning we would skip the park. I decide to walk Sam in our backyard and then at the local cemetery by our house instead.

After a 45-minute walk, 10:30 rolls around and still no poop. I am usually on my drive to work by now and instead I am wearing pajamas and boots, standing in a cemetery in the rain pleading with my oh so sweet puppy to TAKE A DUMP ALREADY. I call Sean, furious. He says go to work, put him in his cage, and don’t worry about it. I wait five more minutes before taking us home. Sam cries while I take my two-minute shower because he does not want to be in his cage. He whines, he screams, he barks, he shouts. So although I am twenty minutes late for work departure I decide to take him out in the backyard one. more. time.

You would think he’d take pity on me and poop. You would think.

I debate calling out sick, knowing that Sean is going to have to come home from work to a covered-in-poop dog. I decide that calling out sick for a dog that won’t poop would be a really stupid idea. How would I explain this to my boss? I go to work and spend the day thinking only of Sam sitting there in his cage having to poop, or laying in it. When 3:30 rolls around I make a rash decision to take a half-day; I can’t concentrate when I know he is at home upset and alone.

As soon as I walk in the door I know he has shat himself. I can smell a faint odor of poop coming from his cage. As I get closer, I see that my once white dog is now completely brown, with poop down his back and on his forehead. “Now you see, this is why you listen to Mommy and poop in the morning!” I found myself telling deaf ears. I grab his collar and carefully walk my poop-covered pup outside (where he poops twice — I might add) and he whines the whole time.

I drag his poop-covered butt upstairs to the shower, rid myself of my work clothes, and spend the next thirty minutes scrubbing the poop off of Sam. If showers were a reward for our dog, I would probably be a little peeved, but he hates taking a shower and so I felt the shower alone was justice for me having to touch his poop-soaked body with my bare hands.

For one instant, as I stood buck naked and drenched in that shower with my poopy dog, I thought to myself: this is why I am a cat person. But then I looked down at my poor pathetic stinker looking so depressed and ashamed, and the fact that he stank so bad didn’t seem to matter. Because I love him, poop and all.

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