The Ultimate Poop Debacle of 2009

It started out as a normal day. Happy kids... sick, pregnant Mom... you get the picture. On today's short agenda, an early morning trip to the vet for Scooby's rabies shot and to get him micro-chipped. It sounded simple enough.

As soon as we got into the car, angry, wild demons possessed my dog and he began jumping and flailing about wildly, thrashing as if his very life depended on it. This continued the entire outing. At the vet's office, Scooby was violated in every possible way. I have to say, it is a bit unnerving to watch the doctor collect a stool sample. Let's just say I'm glad that same procedure isn't status quo for humans. Poor Scooby's eyes popped out of his head and I swear, in that split second I saw a detemination and grit on a level never before experienced in the canine world. His expression said it all. At that moment, my dog vowed for revenge. Oh yes. It was coming.

In addition to the above-mentioned violation, Scooby was given a shot, forced to eat disgusting heart worm pills, and stabbed with a very thick needle while the vet inserted a micro-chip into his writhing body. It's safe to say Scooby has had better days.

Later that afternoon, the effects of his dramatic morning began to take shape and the earliest bit of forshadowing began to rear it's ugly head in the form of a putrifying aroma that began to permeate the house, wither plants, kill insects and small rodents, and singe the nose hairs of any human unlucky enough to be within striking range. If only I had been keen to the signs. If only I had known...

I could tell things were definitely headed south when Scooby turned his nose up at dinner. This is not a dog who refuses food. Or trash. Or anything that remotely resembles food or trash. Another sign that things were woefully awry.

James and I settled into bed that night around 10:30 and quickly fell asleep, as the house was quiet and peaceful. Having not felt well for weeks, I was sleeping rather soundly when suddenly, at 2:30 am, I was jolted awake by a strange sound... "THWPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP!!!!!!!"

I grabbed for James as we heard the noise again. "THWPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP!!!!!!!!" This time, there was no mistaking what we had heard, as the proof of such wafted up toward our nostrils with such suffocating power, it took all my inner strength not to give in to my pregnancy-induced urge to purge.

With great fear and trepidation, James and I leaped out of bed and I cautiously made for the light switch across the room. In hind sight, The lamp next to my bedside would have made much more sense, but my goal was in sight and I intended to reach it. I surveyed the floor before each step and finally discovered the "danger zone", far from my path. With a bit more confidence, I quickened my pace toward the switch and just as I reached for it, my foot landed in a hidden pile with such force and gusto, it was as if I had stepped into a mud puddle and gushed the mud between my toes.

As I stood there, stunned and oozing, I glanced at James who was inching his way toward me. I screamed for him to watch his step, just as his foot landed in the pile I had already spotted. There we were, frozen in stench and several feet from the refuge of the bathtub. It was at that moment that Scooby sprang from the floor and began to trot around in his accomplishment, leaving a paw print trail wherever he roamed.

After several seconds of mental deliberation, James and I opted for personal cleanliness over our floor and we made a beeline for the tub. Once our feet were sanitized and re-sanitized, James ushered Scooby outside while we spent the next half hour – in the middle of the night – scrubbing, mopping and sanitizing floors. Unfortunately, no amount of Fabreeze would cleanse the air.

As we finally retrieved our dog from the yard, closing in on 3 am, I swear I could distinguish the hint of a smile on his muzzle, as if to say, "I told you so, Mom. I told you so."