Friday, February 11, 2011

The Poopless Puppy

Why is the dog made out of BALLOONS? Maybe that guy in the black ski mask is going to pop him with that shiv! But look--the dog has a secret poison spray that shoots out of its neck and makes the villain's arm swell up to twice its normal size!
Not too long ago, when the weather was mild and all the world was young and green (my love), someone left a dog poop on the lawn of our neighbor. Let's call him St. John Smith. Now St. John keeps his lawn looking like someone is about to play croquet upon it at any moment. It is perfect in every way. But then there was that poop.

"How dare!" shouted St. John. He grasped the poop in a baggie and tied it to a sharp stick, which he then thrust into the emerald green bosom of his immaculate lawn. On the stick there was a note that read: "Pick up your shit." The poop inside the baggie was very large and solid. It could be seen from a great distance, twisting gently in the breeze.

It dangled there for days and no one came to claim it. Finally, it disappeared. Then, last week, we discovered that someone had left a baggie of liquid dog doo at the bottom of our empty garbage can, which was sitting at the end of the driveway.

"Who would do such a thing!"cried my husband, pulling the foul thing out and holding it aloft. Of course, we could not fling it away. It was ours to keep now. We must dispose of it, or face the consequences.

My background as an amateur spy led me to connect the two incidents and deduce: "Aha! An evil perpetrator is at work! Someone is walking a beast about. A beast that drops things out of its anus, and doth not claim them, and wanders off leaving bad things that smell and are loathsome and cause unfortunate comment."

I like dogs. They are joyous creatures, with happy faces. Why must they poo? I have a mental difficulty with the idea of carrying a baggie with me, and grasping a hot, steaming pile of faeces through the plastic. Pawing my fingers through someone's grass, trying to "remove" a poo that cannot be fully removed by its very nature as a semi-liquid substance. And then walking jauntily along, swinging the baggie like it's a sack of posies or an aptly-named "doggie bag"  from the steak house. A lovely walk! A walk with a sack of doo!

One might have this exchange:

"Oh, hello, Mrs. St. John Smith!"
"Hello. Is that a sack of shit in your hand?"
"Why yes, it is a sack of shit! I am carrying it now!"
"I can see the poo, gleaming through the plastic. It is quite brown, and liquid. I can see its many details!"
"Indeed! Boomer, my animal, deposited it from his anus! And then I grabbed it with my hand, through the plastic!"

One, we visited a friend who had two small dogs. She also had a kiddie pool, and her kids stripped down to their suits to have a swim. But before they ran out barefoot onto the grass, she went ahead and swept the area with a poo-grabber, which looked a little like salad tongs. She came back in and announced the scene to be poop-free. But I thought: ONE CAN NEVER GUARANTEE COMPLETE REMOVAL OF THE POO! I quailed inside.

My husband says we will get a dog when they invent one that does not poop. I said that this kind of dog is called a "robot," but he says it is called a "poopless puppy." I think it is a fine idea, and I await its invention! In the meantime, I might have to shop at DogDoo.com, so I can fit in with the neighbors who have large animals that drop things out of their anuses. I can carry my own Grande in a plastic bag and smirk at those with tinier, lesser poos.

2 comments:

chris said...

o, pony.

Anonymous said...

Poo Haroo!
Trs, Sam