***If you have a gag reflex don’t read.  Go to another post***

Setup

Today was the mowing of the weeds.  Picture tall weeds sprinkled with clumps of grass and the smallest width push mower you’ve ever seen in your life.    And the sun is baking on my neck.   It’s total joy joy! Not!  I humor myself by saying it’s great exercise and a great workout for a guy like me who sits behind a computer all day.  Plus I only have to do it 5 to 6 times a year.   (Had to stop here and will fill you in further down)   Okay, anyway I’m mowing away and had finished a section and decided to stop and go inside and drink some water, since when I bent over to pull up an extra hard weed I got all light headed.

ACTION

I open the front door and…You ever have one of those experiences where you smell something and it takes you back to a memory?  Like apple pie and grandma or hay and your grandpas barn.  Shit like that.  Well the door opens and my nostrils flared and I knew.  I mean I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt what it was.  My eyes lowered from the door knob and gradually expanded out from the living room carpet all the way into the kitchen and just as that memory popped into my head it was confirmed.   Shit, shit, and more shit.  Big shit.  Little shit.  Squirt shit.  Dog shit.  OMGGGGGGG!!!!   I was brought back to when I was podding training some of my pups years ago.

2 + 2 = a lot of dog shit

When I put 2 and 2 together, I figured out Boris’s system had a very hard time with the CAN of dog food I’d given him the day before.  He always only eats dry dog food.  He’s getting up there in age and has terrible anxiety and hadn’t eaten in 2 days.  I was desperate so I went and got the chunkiest most fat flavored can of dog food I could find.  I brought it home and to my surprise he ate the whole thing.  Life was good!  Boris was back to eating and I had found the solution.  Looking back I have NO FUCKING idea why I gave him the whole can.  Yes, I’m a male and a dumb ass.  Totally agree.

Filling you in now from above

So I spent two hours cleaning the SHIT out of the carpet.  Scraping, spraying, and sponging.  Repeat.  I didn’t freak out though.  Hmmm….maybe because it was my doing.  I took Boris for a walk and left him outside for the rest of the day and then brought him into his pen for the night.  I start typing this joyous tale and all of sudden I hear a bunch of whining and scratching.  I walk out to the kitchen and once AGAIN my memory sensor is activated.  Nope.  Not the barn.  Nope.  Not the apple pie.  Yes the dog shit.  More of.   Poor poor Boris.  Go ahead you can say it.  You weren’t here.  I think I’ve become a professional dog shit cleaner upper today.

Conclusion

Boris is now out in the garage for the night, but don’t worry.  There’s a big dog cushion and more importantly a dog door to the backyard.   I’ve got a candle burning, listening to the washing machine, and trying to finish this up at 11:41 PM.    I’ll end with a picture of my handsome Boris who I truly feel sorry for having such an idiot for an owner.  Tomorrow is another day and come Monday I’m taking him to the vet.  Hopefully we can figure this all out.

Smell you later,

Dwight