It's one thing to step in dog shit when I'm walking around our back yard. Icky, hell yes, but not that big of a deal. I pay attention or end up wiping my shoes.
But in the house? When my feet are bare? No and no. Wait. Make that No and Hell No. I'm not accustomed to it nor do I wish to become accustomed to it. Yet that very thing happened this morning. I stepped just right, too; it squished up between my toes. A flurry of four letter words ensued. Directed at myself.
Our dogs do not make a habit of defecating in the house. It's unacceptable canine behavior and they know it.
Or I should say they used to know it. Dudley still does. But Cosine is getting senile. All the other signs and symptoms worsening over the past months hadn't yet convinced me.
But poo between my toes? Well. That's a sure sign of something.
Shit.
.
3 comments:
wow, i can soo understand what you mean. we recently got a new puppy about 2 weeks ago and i'm trying to train him to do potty and peeing outside, but i can't be watching him like a hawk all the time..so i end up having to change the newspaper in the crate every day. but to do that, i have to get him out of the crate and when he gets out, he's like this crazy pup unleashed and runs all over my kitchen floor with his poopy paws. and i also go barefoot in the house.
Often I use that very same four letter word when dealing with my toilets or cat poop (don't ask) . . . and it always amuses me, then, too, almost as much as this entry did!
Very funny and touching post.
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