I was weeding the flower beds and Aika was running around the yard while I toiled. He ran around like a maniac for a minute then came dashing over to where I was laboriously hunched over. He sniffed all through the flower bed, processing in his walnut-sized brain all the visitors we had received, then went into what Yoga instructors call the “Pooping-Dog” position.
That animal dropped a load right in the middle of the weeds I was working on, then moseyed off like he had other important matters to attend to. It was mere inches away from my kneeling pad. Inches! Our yard is nearly a third of an acre and he has to release his payload right in front of me? I was appalled, disgusted, offended, and just downright mad. He wouldn’t even come back and pick it up when I asked him to. Apparently that dumb dog wants to make sure I know my place as the official family Poop Cleaner-Upper.
Oh, trust me. I know my place. Thanks to my dog and my daughter, I’ll never forget the horrors I’ve seen.
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