I have spent an inordinate amount of time standing in the rain, with a flash light, staring at the butt hole of a dog.
Mia’s latest thing is abject refusal to poop outside. She really, really wants to poop in the dining room, really bad.
So for the last two nights, I take her out, 5 or 6 times after dinner, to try and get her to poop. With my fancy rechargable flashlight, shining at her butt, looking for that telltale bulge that signifies eminent fecal arrival, and hard-earned success.
“Come on Mia, go poop!” she pees. “Good girl, now poop!”, she wanders around and grabs a leaf. “Mia, please poop!” She sits and gives me that uber cute cocked head quizzical puppy look. “Mia, for the love of God, please poop.” She interperets this to mean “run around and pounce on Scully”.
I walk around the yard, to the spots she’s pooped before: “Please, please poop Mia”. She sniffs around…is that the bulge? Holy Grail? My poop wishes granted?! The battery on the flashlight is dying…it’s cold and rainy…please, please, please….
She’s a poop tease.