June 13, 2007
More Euphamisms for "Poop"
Because I'm clearly bored and have nothing to keep me entertained, Stella has invented another game for me to play. It's called simply Find It.
This morning, instead of pooping at her usual time, Stella chose to, instead, sit down in the grass and watch a plane go by overhead. Sometimes, I just don't have the patience to wait until her fickle colon comes to life. Like this morning. When my shower was long overdue.
I took her back inside and figured we'd try again once I no longer smelled like the ape house at the zoo. But upon exiting the shower, I immediately smelled the telltale smell of an unpracticed puppy sphincter, i.e. poop.
Sighing wearily with the knowledge of the task to come, I walked over to her usual spot, which is currently bare floor, ironically, because our living room runner is still at the cleaners. (That stupid Home Depot runner is probably worth about $800 by now, after all we've put into maintaining it.)
No poop. I turned on a light. Still no sign of poop. So I followed my nose and walked through the living room, dining room, hallway, kitchen...
Once I reached the bedrooms, the smell disappeared, so I knew it had to be in the front of the house. But where?!
I did another circuit and thought, "Well, maybe it was just a bad fart...?" But after 37 years on this planet, I can tell the difference between a fart and the actual deed. (You know, they're just not teaching kids the really important stuff in the public schools.)
This was definately A Deed.
There could only be one explanation. One of them had eaten it before I could find it and swat me some furry fanny. But which one? Daisy or Stella? They've both been known to fancy some fecal matter...
Needless to say, it wasn't hard to distinguish which one of them had Bowel Breath. Stella. And then, because she could tell I was mad, and the guilt was killing her, she wanted to lick me in apology.
With her Turd Tongue!