Dog Poop Story #1: The Undie Dog

Dog poop and I go way back. We have a rich and smelly history together, and even when my canine companions have passed away, the memories never fade, and neither do the stains on the carpet. Dog poop, like time itself, remains a steadfast companion in an ever changing world.

I’ve had a number of dogs and consequently thousands of dog poop experiences. While most are non-incidents (except, perhaps, to the dogs), a few stand out above the others – not for mere size, shape or color, but for the manner in which they were presented to me.

Let us travel back in time to the year 2001. My current dog, Sirius, was just a puppy, barely housebroken and full of mysterious habits that only he could fathom. One such odd characteristic was the eating of underwear. Specifically, my underwear. My dirty underwear. No matter how I hid them, covered them, protected them, or chastised him, I was losing almost one pair per week to his puppy breathing jaws.

Now, eating underwear or clothing of any sort is not good for dogs; it can cause serious health problems during digestion (or lack thereof). I was blessed in that Sirius never suffered any ill effects from his habit, and in fact occasionally would regurgitate my panties back to me (whole and gooey, usually next to my bed so I would be sure to step on them first thing in the morning). He was even kind enough to poop out the remnants in the snow, so that the spring thaw revealed a lawn covered in undies, like little May flowers that had sprouted during the cold. (Here is another good reason to pick up dog poop on your own lawn – you never know what might be lurking in those steaming brown mounds.)

Most of the undie-dog poops were non-descript “granny panties,” but it can’t be said that I lacked a spontaneous side; among the white cottons in my drawer were a number of cute or fanciful pairs, including a hot pink thong that I found on sale for fifty cents at TJ Max. It took me a long time to screw up the courage to wear this pair (actually it was an act of necessity caused by a rapidly depleting supply of underwear and no time for laundry), and when the day was over, I dutifully squished them to the bottom of the hamper under all my other clothes to protect them from the dog beast, and hid the hamper inside the bathroom for safety.

It was some weeks later that the horrifying incident actually occurred. Since I didn’t have many other hot pink items to wash, the thong had stayed in the hamper for a while, hiding from the dog’s grasp. In fact I had forgotten all about it, until one fateful day when I took Sirius out for the Dog Poop Walk (you all know that particular duty well).

We strolled about the yard and in his usual manner, Sirius sniffed around in circles for the perfect dog poop spot. He squatted and let my mind drift, but something seemed awry. After a few moments of his straining without success, I walked over to inspect the orifice. Kneeling down, I discovered that part of the dog poop had already been evacuated. About an inch and a half was sticking out, wiggling at me as Sirius shifted his feet for better leverage. Thinking he had everything under control, I waiting a few more minutes before finally stepping in to intervene. By now, Sirius has his nose to his tail and was spinning around, trying to shake the dog poop loose. I grabbed a nearby leaf in one hand and held his tail aside with the other, and pulled on the dangling mass.

The poop didn’t just come out. It streeeeeeeeeeeetched nearly eight inches long, and took two full tugs before that hot pink thong whiplashed out of Sirius’ bum and onto the muddy ground.

I wish I could say that his underwear eating was over. It wasn’t, though the habit was quelled after about a year. I also wish I could say that I didn’t leave that hot pink thong just sitting there where the neighbors could see it, but that would also be a lie since I forgot to bring a bag with me and then forgot about the offending item for weeks. I can, however, say that it was one of the weirdest dog poop experiences I have ever had. And no, I didn’t bother to replace the thong in my wardrobe.

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This entry was posted on Tuesday, July 01st, 2008 at 7:39pm and is filed under Dog Poop Calendar, Dog Poop Stories. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response or trackback from your own site.