It all started a few nights ago, Annie was exhausted and went to bed an hour or so before me. I started getting ready for bed and Phil knew what was going on so he went upstairs a few minutes before me. I entered the bedroom and was trying to be quiet. It was dark and I couldn't see anything but I managed to make it to my side of the bed. As I put my hands out I felt a furry retriever, on my side of the bed, head on my pillow. Great. No big deal, I just need to quietly get Phil off of the bed. I'm the boss around here, I may not have pants on at the moment but I have been known to wear pants. I quietly whisper "Phil, get off the bed", no movement. "Off the damn bed!" No movement. I am convinced that my whispering clued Phil in on what was happening. He knew that I couldn't make noise or I would wake Annie, "your move dad". I decide that I am going to quietly pick Phil up and remove him from the bed. I move in for the pickup and Phil, oh so quietly begins chewing on my arms! No matter how I come at him he always beats me to it and defends against my advances. I can't see shit and at this point I am tangled in a mess of dog fur, trying to pick Phil up, while slowly being bitten to death, silently. After about 30 seconds of this I finally wrestle the retriever to the ground. Victory is mine!! Take that retriever, I get to sleep in my own bed tonight.
I wake up early the next morning to go to work, early enough that it is dark outside when I take my trusty retriever outside. Usually he only has to pee and all is fine, but something has messed up his schedule so more often than not he has been pooping for me as well. Since I am not accustomed to this early morning phenomenon I have been caught out in my front yard ill prepared for this event. Luckily the poop bags are just inside the house. So Phil finishes up his business and we head inside, I take off the leash and he gets this crazy look in his eye. "What's that dad? You want to see how fast I can run?" You see, Phil LOVES to do sprints after pooping. I can relate with him, I mean who doesn't want to do a few laps around the living room after a successful bowel movement? The problem is that it is early and I don't want him to wake Annie up. It is very difficult to convince a dog that feels the need to gallop, to not gallop. It's like he loses his mind and has gone to a land filled with rivers and meadows to frolic through and the only cure is to see how many times he can run from garage door to front door. Through slow movements I manage to embrace the race retriever and he takes up his post next to the couch. Crisis averted.
Meanwhile, poop is outside. I grab a dog bag and head on out. Nothing out of the ordinary here, just a dog owner picking up feces. Except it is dark, and I can't find the poop. I know the general area, so I have it narrowed down to about a 10x10 square. At this point I am standing in my front yard, in the dark, staring at the ground. I take a few careful steps but cannot manage to find the magical gift that my dog has deposited into the yard. I know I'm on the right track though because I occasionally feel the breeze and get a whiff of dog poop. I don't exactly have the best sniffer, so I figure I am pretty close to the poop in question. I'm barefoot though, so it's sketchy. I can't just go recklessly wandering through this minefield.
It's at this point that decisions have to be made. I know what to do. I pull out my trusty phone and open the FLASHLIGHT app! Who's a genius? This guy. So just to get you up to speed if for some reason you started reading this blog in the middle(why would anybody do that?). I am in my front yard, barefoot, crouched over using the light on my phone, scanning for dog poop. It was mid scan that I suddenly heard a noise. Which of course was four women going on there morning walk. OH NO! I'm comfortable being the guy that uses a light to find poop in the dark, but I'm not necessarily comfortable with people KNOWING that I am the guy that uses a light to find poop in his yard. I jolt up and turn off my phone light. Then as if this is perfectly natural, I pretend to be doing something important on my phone as they walk by. Nothing to see here ladies, just a dude texting barefoot in his front yard in the dark.
The ladies passed me by and I continued with my feces scavenger hunt. After a few more moments I found it! Victory is mine!! Nothing compares to the sense of accomplishment that you get when finally finding that chameleon poop and you wrap your hand around it. I was filled with so much pride, until I realized that I could never in good conscience tell anybody about the event that had just transpired. If only I had a blog for just this kind of self ridicule.
I waited 10 months for this?! Ha. Just kidding. Phil is kind of a jerk! Also, I can't wait until you have kids. Then you'll find out what cleaning up poop is all about!
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