Roscoe Doody Freakout


The doody squeemish should not read...



So once in a while Roscoe will be making a doody on the street and something will go wrong. Somehow a part of a doodylog will not totally fall out of his butt. Not sure how it happens. But he'll do his squat and think he's done, then he'll stand up and some poop will still be there. Hanging out. Roscoe will immediately realize that something is way wrong and a doggie red alert siren will go off in his head and he'll totally panic. He'll start whimpering in fear of the doody situation and desperately try to run away from his own butt.

I'll do my best to calm down but he'll be in his own terrorized world. Spinning in circles and whining loudly as if he's in actual pain but it's really just doody panic. I'll grab him by his collar and try to get him to relax but I can see in his eyes he's screaming, "There's doody!!!! You gotta help me!! Someone! Dog God! Help me!!!"

I'll take out one of the plastic bags I use to pick up poop and spin him around and go through the disgusting task of umm.. helping out with his situation. The ultimate in dog owner humiliation on the street. It's one of those things where while I'm doing it. I don't breathe. I don't look. I try not to feel. It's like every sensor in my body shuts down as best it can to avoid realizing what I'm actually doing.

Once the deed is done we go straight home and I'll throw Roscoe in the shower and use the nozzle thing on full blast to wash off his butt for like 10 minutes. Then I spray down the whole shower with Tilex. Then I'll take a shower myself and try to wash away the idea that any of it ever happened...

ok bye!