An Inconvenient Poop

Long-time readers know that I do my best to help the environment. That's the reason the wife and I bought those canvas supermarket bags- less plastic in the landfill.

Then we got a dog.

It poops.

Now we can't buy groceries fast enough to keep a positive bags-to-bowels ratio. In fact, we had to go out and buy plastic bags, just to keep up.

If anyone has an environmentally friendly solution to this, let me know. Because apparently the hole in the ozone layer, those category 4 hurricanes, and the impending extinction of the polar bear are all due to an adorable little schnauzer-dachshund mix.

You didn't warn me about that, Al Gore.

Poop, the other dark chocolate

I have been dog-sitting my dog-in-law for the last week and a half. Since the wife and I can't afford a dog of our own right now, we're quite happy to watch "Libby". She's a beagle, an excellent canine archetype. And since she's 11, she's far too old to be poorly behaved. There's only one problem.

This dog eats poop.

This 11 yr old, arthritic, shit-hunting hound will drag me 2 blocks in search of scat. It's like a delicacy to her. No doubt in that peach-pit sized dog brain there's an entire registry of colors and consistencies of various defecation. "Hmmm...almondy, with a texture not unlike a whipped mouse... aged perhaps two days, and... yes I detect a hint of IAMs."

At least, that's what I assume she's telling me every time she woof's when I drag her away from some "after dinner" delight.