My son and daughter-in-law have a beautiful Jack Russell Terrier mix dog. He's about 8 months old and still somewhat in the puppy stage. When Cory and Jamie came in Friday night, we were busy bustling around bringing in bags and visiting and hugging and running around the house all talking at once.
None of us were paying attention to Oakley who, giving him the benefit of the doubt, I'm sure was trying to tell us he desperately needed to take a huge dump. We paid dearly for our inattentiveness. As Cory was leaving to go out and bring in one last batch of stuff from his truck, we heard him say, "Oakley, what did you do?" Jamie and I looked up and Cory looked at us and said, "He crapped by the door!" To Oakley's credit, he did do it right in front of the door. This is not a large dog and I still can't figure out how all of that came out of that tiny ass.
After Cory scolded him and took him outside, he came back in to clean it up. As he opened the door to come back in the house, the draft from opening and closing the front door forced the odor from the doggy dump further into the house. That's when everyone sprung into action. Suddenly, we were all grabbing our mouths and moaning and groaning like food poison victims.
Jamie ran upstairs to get the air freshener out of the bathroom and I ran to the laundry room to grab a can of Lysol. We sprayed and sprayed but the smell just would not go away. Cory picked up their empty Wendy's Hamburger bag from dinner on the road and put the offensive mass into the bag. As he got close to the kitchen garbage can, I yelled, "Don't put it in there!" I am not a yeller. I never yell...ever. Cory had no intention of putting the bag of doggy doo in the garbage can but I had panicked. He looked at me like I had lost my mind which was partly true.
The way we were all acting and running around spraying Febreze and Lysol, you would have thought Cory was carrying anthrax around in that bag. I told him, "Grab (gag) a plastic garbage (gag) bag and put (gag, gag, gag) the Wendy's bag (gaaaaaaaag) in the plastic kitchen garbage bag (gag) then put it in a big garbage bag, " all the while still spraying Lysol and holding my hand over my mouth and nose.
That was two days ago and, I swear I can still conjure up that smell from memory. And, people ask me why I don't have (gag) pets.
8 comments:
Nothing like a good poop story to set the tone for a new week! Thanks! heh heh
My dog without fail, always seem to gorge himself on a rotten carcass of some animal the day before I took him on some long road trip. I can't count the number of times that I would be driving down some interstate with my head out the window and a dog in the back where it reeked of putrified cabbage. But man what would I give to have him back even with the odors. Pets have that affect on those that love them.
Only Jack Russell breeds do that. Never happens with Bill Russells.
Sounds like Oakley might have worms (at least every time my dogs have oversized stinky poops its cause they have worms).
Wait. You're telling me that, eventually, mothers lose their immunity to poop smells? Because I was planning to go on Fear Factor with my fecal tolerance, after the amount of toxic crap I've dealt with in the past few years. But this changes everything.
At least Oakley tried to be circumspect about it. Dogs may seem frustrating at times like this but they do provide those of us who are childless with companionship and comfort. All in all, it's a good deal.
The only thing worse than Jack Russell poop is cat poop. I have a Maine Coon, the largest breed, 20 lbs of fun. He takes incredible dumps in his over-sized litterbox which smell worse than anything any dog I have ever owned produced.
Abby - Glad I could help.
Ed - You are a true pet lover.
Old Horsetail - Hahahahaha!
Nona - I'll tell them to have him checked. Thanks.
Patsy - I don't know about that one. But, he sure is cute.
Penny - I think that immunity to poop smells goes away very quickly. At least it did for me.
Comfort Addict - Dogs are great companions, especially the ones that don't know they're dogs.
Old Roses - Oh my God!
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