Debbie (pic) - When a pittie gets spooked

There is nothing that will bring you back to earth swifter than a lose pool of dog poo. Yep, that’s right. I said it.

Arriving home after work an evening last week I knew something wasn’t right the moment I pushed the door to the mudroom open. My mind did a quick race through my dog inventory. I knew darn well it couldn’t be the Chi. His poos are small and though he leaves them on an almost daily basis I had never noticed an aroma. (At least he has the decency to leave the goods in the same place everyday. After a year it is actually a surprise when there is nothing there when I get home. I guess that is the bane of a puppy mill survivor. No formal potty training. We are making progress though.)

Anyway, I digress. I knew by the unfamiliar stench that the likelihood of the poo belonging to Ike or Debbie was nil to none. One thing about a raw diet is the amazing change in a dog’s feces. I will save that observation for another post. =)

There could be only one. Yep, Daphne. What made the realization more horrifying was that she is kenneled when I leave. That meant she had been spreadin’ pasty poo about her bedding and toys for lord only knows how long, ugh. Daphne is very good in her kennel. Never a mess. And my philosophy is that accidents happen. It must really suck to have to depend on another person to dictate when you can take a dump. Especially when it isn’t solid. So I did not express to Daphne my displeasure with the find. Who was so happy I was home, by the way, she just wanted a little luvin’. Ah, no, I don’t think so mamma. Not when your paws and back end are matted with whipped poo!

Got her out the door immediately to relive herself of what was left so I could assess the kennel. Oh ya, it was disgusting. Now I am not easily grossed out but let me tell you moving about the stench of salmon flavored dog poo (she eats salmon dog food) caused me to wretch. And I hate to confess that I threw a perfectly nice towel matted with soft poo in the garbage. I just didn’t want to even begin dealing with that. The toys weren’t as bad.

I dug out the poo spatula from the cleaning cupboard and drew a pail of hot water with sudz and set about the cleaning. When Daphne bolted in the door I wrestled her into the bathtub. She is so good in the tub and patiently stood as I baby shampooed her tootsies and hind quarters.

That was my last week’s Wednesday.

The best part of the whole ordeal was the next day when I noticed my S.O. Brit using the by then clean poo spatula to cook. Since it was oatmeal for the dogs I didn’t say anything. Shhhhh

Filed under: Observations & Reflection