Thanks for Not Eating Your Poop

File that under “Things You NEVER Thought You’d Say”.  Gross, right?  You have no idea.  Sweetdog has taken to doing some of the very things that we always beamed with pride that “our dog” didn’t do.  That’s parenthood in a nutshell, right there, folks.  Yes indeedy.  Aside from making sure that the bathroom trash cans are off the floor now, so that chewed up bits and pieces of ‘things that shouldn’t be mentioned’ aren’t found strewn across the floor, I’ve also had the new pleasure of making sure to get my keester downstairs at the crack of dawn to help Sweetdog outside to relieve herself.  Or she most certainly will. Only, all over the rug.  Or floor.  Or, in the interest of full disclosure for those Sweetfriends that visit me from time to time, also on the couch.  (Please, don’t stop visiting!  I’ll turn the cushions over just for you!)  Sigh…

It didn’t surprise me, then, not even one iota, that I awoke recently one morning to hear a chorus of “EWWWWW, Sweetdog!!!!  NOOOO!!! Don’t eat your poop! EWWWWW!!!”.  Followed very shortly by “MAMAAAAA, Sweetdog just ATE HER POOOOOOP!!!”. As if I hadn’t heard them the first time.  It’s the stuff every mama dreams of waking up to, right?  Sweet Moses…  Couple that new development with Sweetman going to sit on the couch last week and finding his keester wet from a freshly-peed-upon spot on the couch cushion, and I do believe that *Miracle Floor Cleaner* and I can formally sign a binding agreement.  Wherein, I can honestly say that I will, single-handedly, be keeping them in business for at least the foreseeable future.

Yesterday, I came down in the nick of time folks. You see, sweet dog had just “deposited” and was circling back around for the ole’ snifferooney. Because, you know, she wasn’t sure what that new, interesting looking thing could possibly be over there on the floor!  And I swooped in and picked that nasty thing up with help from our leftover stash of “diaper stink containment bags”. And as I tied that bag up as tightly as I could, I patted Sweetdog’s head and said “Thanks for not eating your poop, ole’ girl.”  Oh. Yes. I. Did.  Indeed.

*Disclaimer*  Miracle Floor Cleaner was NOT the actual name of what I used.  I have no formal agreement with any pet stain remover company. But would certainly LOVE to, if any of them felt so inclined.  Because, you know, I use a ton of the stuff. Often. I’m just putting that out there…

4 thoughts on “Thanks for Not Eating Your Poop

  1. “Sweet Moses”! I love that phrase. And the poop stories are always good for a laugh after the fact. When it’s happening you may not be laughing, but I think it’s pretty hilarious in hindsight.

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