My human seems to be ashamed of my poop. She compulsively follows me on my poop walks and even collects my poops in little bags. Then, for some reason, she tosses my perfectly good poops away?!? I’m puzzled by her behavior. I am proud of my poops. She is messing with my poop zen.
I don’t think my human understands just how deeply entrenched poop is in the doggy culture. We live by a poop code in our world. I, for one, have a highly developed poop ritual. I will only poop on green grass. Sand, cement, dead grass”¦those are not happy poop surfaces. I have to find the PERFECT spot in a quiet area with nobody around. It might take up to 45 minutes for me to find the best spot. I consider myself a bit of a poop connoisseur. Also, since you can’t tell what lurks behind bushes at night, I only poop in the daylight. I need at least 30 seconds of undisturbed poop time from the moment I start. When I was a puppy, I learned pretty fast that the absolute worst thing that can happen, while taking a poop, is to be surprised or disturbed””a strange dog or person coming around the corner for instance. (Never poop on sidewalk corners for this reason, or anywhere else if you can’t anticipate the coming/goings at that spot for the next 30 seconds.) Whilst in the poop position, we are very vulnerable. As you probably know, it’s virtually impossible to stop pooping once you’ve started and the last thing you need is to be surprised (by that poodle who has anger issues from down the road) while you’re busy. That type of thing scars a dog for life.
So anyway, after finding the right spot and looking in all directions to make sure I won’t be disturbed by anyone, I perform my poop-dance. This involves practice-hunches, circling while sniffing the ground and then *VOILA* ”¦the poop fairies sing and the glorious act can take place.
Here’s the disturbing part though: After all that effort, my human bends down and scoops my poop up with plastic bags. She always has a look of disgust on her face while she hurries to throw the bags away. I don’t even have a chance to survey the results, let alone sniff them. I feel like she is ashamed of my creations. I think she may even have generalized poop issues as she seems ashamed of her own poop too. She locks herself behind a closed door and poops in isolation!
I’ve tried kicking dirt over my poop to disguise it enough that she can’t find it, but that didn’t work. I even try speeding away the moment I’m finished pooping””trying to entice her into a game of chase””but she can’t be distracted from her strange poop-collecting habit. What do you think?
Just so we’re on the same page, you’re talking about poop right? It’s early on a Monday and your letter was a little vague. NOT! Haha. Great descriptions man, I really felt like I was there with you”¦pooping on some grass. Well, on one paw it’s almost endearing to see how well we’ve trained our people. I know we never imagined they’d take picking up after us to this crazy extent, but remember: It’s easier to un-train their bad habits than to start from scratch teaching them new ones.
You’ve gone about dissuading your human from picking up your poops in a number of very clever and refined ways. Nice work. I have two recommendations that might be worth a shot.
The first may not seem ideal, I know, but you might need to make some tough calls in order to break this woman’s obsessive tendencies. Of course green grass is the best, but it also pretty much places a flashing neon “grab me” sign around your poop. The next time you take her out for a stroll, I suggest rethinking dense bushes, ivy and/or giant piles of leaves as suitable locations. Yes, all are incredibly unfavorable when it comes to getting your groove on”¦but they do that while posing natural barriers that make it much harder to erase your “work.” Like Jackie Chan, you should use your environment to your advantage. Your mom, like most higher primates, won’t enjoy the mystery your new tactic sets into motion. Did you just poop in a pile of rat-infested ivy? Who knows? It’s all about the maybe. Nor will she want to reach her hand down, to unknown depths, in a bundle of leaves that may (or may not) have snakes lurking about. Meanwhile, other dogs will still be able to smell your stuff and some might even be able to find it.
Now, if you are an urban dude and the great outdoors is harder to come by, this next solution may be the only way to go. Make her step in it. I know, not cool, but hear me out.
You do your deed. It’s perfection. You’re proud. But in an instant the pride vanishes as she reaches for her eco-friendly poop bag and opens it up. What if, just as she starts to bend down you “see a squirrel” and lurch forward to show it who’s boss. This places her in a direct collision course with your pile. What a coincidence! Your mom, however, is agile and the last thing she wants is to fall into your latest accomplishment. Logically, she breaks her fall by placing one foot in front of the next until kur-splat””her shoe smushes your poop into the grass. She curses, knowing she won’t be able to pick up 100% of your masterpiece. She will, furthermore, spend the remainder of your walk spreading your efforts across a much wider playing field.