Oh Crappy Day
If your day starts out with you being dragged through dog shit and vomit, then, theoretically, it can only get better from there. But, all things being equal, the potential for improvement in the day does not really make up for the actuality of being bathed in bodily fluids, dog or otherwise. At least, that's how I see it. Unfortunately, this realization came to me while I was standing in a scalding hot shower, scrubbing off shit (the dog's) and vomit (mine).
I've known since Oscar Gonzales threw up in Mrs. Clary's second grade classroom that I am a sympathetic vomiter. If I hear someone vomiting, see it, or smell it, I am right there with them. Today, I learned that I have a new vomit trigger -- dog crap.
In a gigantic act of stupidity on my part, I offered to take my parents' dog, Boots, for a walk. For the visual, Boots is a chocolate lab that weighs about 80 pounds and, to put it politely, he could use about 2 years of extensive shouting, I mean, whispering from Cesar Millan. Since Boots is not exactly the poster dog for obedience school, I attached his leash to a choke collar.
Boots and I set out for a walk around my parents' subdivision. Before leaving the house, I grabbed a couple of plastic bags, not because I had any intention of scooping up dog poop, mind you, but because I wanted it to appear that way to any members of the Homeowner's Association that we might encounter along the way.
When we reached the street corner the fartherest from my parents' house, Boots decided he needed to use the bathroom. I gave him a little privacy, and as much slack as possible on the leash, and he did his business. A whole lot of business.
Since there were other people a couple of blocks from us who could potentially finger me as the non-pooper scooper, I bent down and acted like I was picking up the dog crap. I turned my head away from it, just as the guy in the Verizon truck decided to pull alongside us and compliment me on the dog. Boots took off in the direction of the Verizon truck, pulling me along with him. Unfortunately, I was still in a squatting position from my fake poop pick-up, so I had limited balance and even less leverage to pull backwards on the leash. Even more unfortunate, I had put the choke collar on backwards, rendering it totally ineffective.
I will spare you all the details, but the sequencing went pretty much like this: dog takes off; dog (and karma) drags Cindy through the poop she faked picking up; Cindy starts puking; dog keeps going; Cindy dragged through her own vomit; Verizon man takes off like a bat out of hell; Cindy walks 1/2 a mile home gagging uncontrollably and stinking of dog shit and vomit.
Copyright 2006 by Cindy Lane. All rights reserved.
I've known since Oscar Gonzales threw up in Mrs. Clary's second grade classroom that I am a sympathetic vomiter. If I hear someone vomiting, see it, or smell it, I am right there with them. Today, I learned that I have a new vomit trigger -- dog crap.
In a gigantic act of stupidity on my part, I offered to take my parents' dog, Boots, for a walk. For the visual, Boots is a chocolate lab that weighs about 80 pounds and, to put it politely, he could use about 2 years of extensive shouting, I mean, whispering from Cesar Millan. Since Boots is not exactly the poster dog for obedience school, I attached his leash to a choke collar.
Boots and I set out for a walk around my parents' subdivision. Before leaving the house, I grabbed a couple of plastic bags, not because I had any intention of scooping up dog poop, mind you, but because I wanted it to appear that way to any members of the Homeowner's Association that we might encounter along the way.
When we reached the street corner the fartherest from my parents' house, Boots decided he needed to use the bathroom. I gave him a little privacy, and as much slack as possible on the leash, and he did his business. A whole lot of business.
Since there were other people a couple of blocks from us who could potentially finger me as the non-pooper scooper, I bent down and acted like I was picking up the dog crap. I turned my head away from it, just as the guy in the Verizon truck decided to pull alongside us and compliment me on the dog. Boots took off in the direction of the Verizon truck, pulling me along with him. Unfortunately, I was still in a squatting position from my fake poop pick-up, so I had limited balance and even less leverage to pull backwards on the leash. Even more unfortunate, I had put the choke collar on backwards, rendering it totally ineffective.
I will spare you all the details, but the sequencing went pretty much like this: dog takes off; dog (and karma) drags Cindy through the poop she faked picking up; Cindy starts puking; dog keeps going; Cindy dragged through her own vomit; Verizon man takes off like a bat out of hell; Cindy walks 1/2 a mile home gagging uncontrollably and stinking of dog shit and vomit.
Copyright 2006 by Cindy Lane. All rights reserved.
posted by Cindy Lane at 4:46 AM
7 Comments:
Lmao. Pardon me for doing this, but it's HILARIOUS.
OMG Cindy...you poor thing..i feel bad for you but you have me actually laughing out loud reading this..oh and your friday night lights was awesome..what a game..GO BIG BLUE!!!!! #12
Cindy, I am right with you. I have a similar story only with Allie. For all you others, Allie is my 3 year old daughter. She was on the toilet and asked me to wipe her. I go wipe her and get her poop on my hand. I then proceed to vomit into the toilet while my daughter is still sitting on it. I still have nightmares about it.
Rod,how come we have not heard this story before now? You think you have nightmares. I see Allie on Oprah in a couple of years!
This story is better than when I stepped into what I thought was tira misu in Rachael's back yard...only to find out Otto left a fresh one for me. Thanks to Gracie sniffing the bottom of my shoe I never would have known it was dog shit. Ask me if I've eaten tira misu since!
Cindy, that story is sooooooo much better after 12 beers at South Beach bar so I was trying to hold out.
Deargod, you do spectacular well ... ! I'm so sorry for your experience but ... muffled laughter from the kiwi chick.
Post a Comment
<< Home