The Midnight Poop by Pocket Dog

I am on a very strict diet because of my troubled tummy.  But on Saturday Daddy brought home a new Wilderness Chicken roll.  I am pretty good with treats and when they opened the roll the smell caught my attention.  It smelled incredible.  My parents gave me some in my meal, and some on my “second plate” the meal I get when River works on her treat bone (also filled with Wilderness Chicken roll.)

It’s was great.  I loved it.  River loved it.  Then, at about 4:30 in the morning I got out of bed when Mommy went to the bathroom and I pooped on the rug.  I tell you the odds of that happening was pretty small.  Not the me pooping but me pooping on the rug in the dark because less than 20 percent of our bedroom is covered with rug.  It was like a poop in one.

Daddy must have heard my little paws hit the floor. When Mommy left the bathroom Daddy told her I was out of bed  She picked me up, put me on the bed, then went to the end of the bed to get the comforter and that is when she stepped in my freshly lain poop.  

I must say this for Mommy.  She can step in poop like nobody’s business.  If you have poop in your vicinity that you cannot find then invite Mommy to your house and have her take off her shoes and wander around in the dark.  It is guaranteed that within five minutes she will step in your missing poop.  It is a misdirected superpower.

Daddy got out of bed and turned on the lights.  Mommy walked on one leg into the bathroomm put her foot in the tub and washed it off with cold water on a frigid night.  Daddy picked up my poo.  Mommy asked how it was, because poo texture is very important to my parents, but the evidence was inconclusive because Mommy smooshed a stool into the rug.  Daddy took the rug into the other bathroom to soak and then Daddy, and Mommy with the wet foot got back into bed where I quickly and smartly settled down.

Of course I did not get in trouble.   This is what happens when you experiment with my tummy.   But I don’t get any more chicken roll either.  Sigh.  

Uneasy is the tummy that eats the roll.