Doggie Doo, Oh Poo

Oh, look. Here’s my dog, Vlassic, sound asleep in his doggy bed. Isn’t that sweet? Look at how he is not wriggling, squirming, or digging his nails into anything. What a great dog.

As an added bonus, there isn’t dried up cow dung all over his collar, either. Mmm, that was fun to clean off. I can see why it becomes a building material. It dries to a rock hardness. A stinky rock hardness.

What Did He Doo?

Well, back at the ranch bedroom, there used to be an odd square of foam rubber that once dwelt inside a pillow. Lee was using it to make his inordinately complex nest that he sleeps on in his automatic recliner/man cocoon.

Monday evening, I came into the room, exhausted from my day of hospital hijinks, to discover many, many pieces of foam rubber strewn quite gaily around the place. A dog or dogs had gotten into the bedroom and run amock. You see, we leave the door open when Vlassic’s home, so he can hide in the bed from Penney (even though they get along now, he still won’t go downstairs and sit in our laps).

I don’t feel so good, Mom.

We cleaned the mess up. Lee will learn to put covers on pillows. The end?

Nope. Yesterday, when I drove back to Austin, I noticed Vlassic was turning around a lot in his seat, rather than sleeping. When I sat to relax from all my errands and phone calls, he wiggled a lot, then asked to go out. He usually doesn’t do that.

He ran to his usual “spot,” and then (you guessed it), began expelling not only poop, but good-sized pieces of foam rubber. That was different. At least I could see that it easily passed through him and didn’t cause a blockage. Whew.

Then we went to sleep. No, then we went to BED. The entire night, Vlassic tossed, turned, poked his feet into various parts of me, licked things, made little noises, etc. Finally, just before 6 am he went to the door and asked to go out. Off I went in my pajamas. Good thing no one (not even the deer and armadillos) was around to enjoy the spectacle of more foam-filled dog products.

When we got back, he squirmed until ten minutes before my alarm went off. GRR.

Just let me sleep it off, please.

As you might imagine, I did not have a good sleep report when I woke up.

But, that’s what we do for our loved ones we care for, right? We sacrifice because we love them, and when they make a mistake, we help them get through it. It was a good lesson for me to remember when I awoke to realize it’s been exactly a year since my son ghosted me. I love my children unconditionally, too.

Author: Sue Ann (Suna) Kendall

The person behind The Hermits' Rest blog and many others. I'm a certified Texas Master Naturalist and love the nature of Milam County. I manage technical writers in Austin, help with Hearts Homes and Hands, a personal assistance service, in Cameron, and serve on three nonprofit boards. You may know me from La Leche League, knitting, iNaturalist, or Facebook. I'm interested in ALL of you!

3 thoughts on “Doggie Doo, Oh Poo”

  1. If I had a friend who came over and threw my trash all over the front yard, they wouldn’t be a friend or invited to my house anymore. But when it is one of the dogs (foster or otherwise) I just say, “Well, it’s just what they do sometimes. We will have to keep the trash can put away.” I’ve noticed that their messes are just a clean up and move on thing, but people messes are what drive me nuts. It’s similar to me of a small child knocking something over or breaking something and I just say, “Well, they don’t know, they didn’t mean it. I should have put that away.” Our dogs are just our very small children for their whole lives. Except Harvey who is obviously a mature gentleman who is looking for his lost monocle and top hat that Carlton probably ran away with.

    Liked by 1 person

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