Thursday, January 05, 2006

Attack of the Killer Turd

While walking my dog Izzy this evening, she (not me) somehow managed to step in a giant pile of poop. It was cold and dark, so I didn't realize it right away - not until we got back inside. As soon we got in the house I noticed the enormous clump of leaves stuck to her left rear foot. Then I noticed the smell. She, amazingly, seemed oblivious. I told her to STAY and went into the kitchen to get a dish-towel and soap.

Normally she's relatively well behaved and tends to do what she's told (especially if there are no distractions around) but something about my tone must have frightened her. She sensed she was in trouble and didn't know why. So she ran and hid under the desk. It was easy enough to find her. I just had to follow the crap-smeared paw prints across the living room. She must have searched for a place to hide because she'd apparently run in circles before settling under the desk.

It took a full fifteen minutes just to clean her paw - there was an endless supply of feculence wedged between her pads and the soapy warm dish-towel had us both gagging. I threw it away when I was done. It took a lot longer to clean the carpet. At least Izzy was genuinely upset with herself for the whole debacle. I've never seen a dog act so ashamed. I didn't even bother to scold or punish her, but seriously - what kind of dog walks in crap and doesn't know it?

This whole episode makes me wonder what it'll be like when we have kids (my wife and I - not me and the dog.) Whatever trouble a dog can create I imagine a kid can do a thousand times worse. I suppose I'm as ready as I'll ever be.


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