"" bshawise: Uncle Justin: Dog Whisperer

Friday, April 18, 2008

Uncle Justin: Dog Whisperer

We have returned from sunny FLA. While we were away Uncle Justin watched Miss Jackson. This is vacation for Miss J. She gets to watch television on the couch. She sleeps next to human feet in human beds. She is rewarded for her greatest skill (staring at you while you eat). She is given a diverse selection of bones to munch on. Uncle Justin will be my future kids' favorite human being. I can imagine sending them to stay with him for a weekend and hearing things like, "Uncle Justin bought us a four-wheeler and jackhammers and we shot pelicans with his new crossbow and then we made dynomite." He is that guy. Spoils the bejesus out of everyone he loves. Including dogs. Which is great. We love Uncle Justin. But Miss Jackson's bowels aren't what they used to be. Ever since the injury she's had trouble completing 100% of her poops outdoors. So she loves everything about Justin's especially the rawhide bones. It's just that rawhide bones don't love her. They turn her solid poo into mud pie. This is not good for a dog who poops indoors from time to time. Justin was warned. His involuntary, unstoppable urge to give gifts trumped said warning.

So yesterday Justin comes home to liquid doo-doo slopped all over his apartment. Did I mention that Miss Jackson can no longer squat and poop in one place? She runs all over as the waste exits. The nerves down south never fully healed. So a toxic mud slide ran room too room committing aggravated assault on Justin's nasals. The poor bastard cleaned it up. Miss J. watched barely remembering the bone.

Last night we're sleeping in Justin's guest room (our floors are being redone for the third time so we're out until Monday). At roughly 2am we wake up to the second unnatural disaster. Another putrid avalanche. We put Miss in the bathroom (linoleum floors) for the rest of the night knowing full well the rawhide was still wreaking havok inside her waste management system. Justin opened the bathroom door this morning to said havok. I wish this weblog could emit smells so you understand the wretched, torture-gauntlet thrown down by my 60 lb. aromatic terrorist. Only then would you truly sympathize with this plight.

So get this. An hour ago Leah called to inform me that as she and the dog were driving over to the house Miss struck again. On the passenger seat. Leah described in disgusting detail, "There's a white, mucousy membrane around it." I can't imagine the stench in that poor Jeep. I feel like a victim of a flash flood and/or drive-by egging. Unfairly accosted by a wet stench- left asking the gods to make it stop. Make the unholy treachery stop.


Sarah said...

Dude...that SUCKS...
We've been there before when one of our greyhounds had an allergic reaction to a medication. It. Was. Horrible. He couldn't keep it in.
Although...unlike your situation, this is something that went away after about 3 days.
Hope she's feeling better soon!

Anonymous said...

Oh wow, as mother to 3 dogs and 8 cats I have more than my share of poo stories but seriously yours is one of the worse I've heard. Hope Miss Jackson's intestines are soon resting peacefully.

certified cougar counter said...

That was one of the funniest, most horrifying stories I've read in a long time and I thank you for verbally reenacting it so true to the source. I, too, have seen the unholy after-effects of a dog's upset innards and have come up with this universally accepted equation: Liquid Hot Cakes + Clean Carpet = The Devil's Dance. I feel for ya cousin and hope Miss comes around to the dry side soon.

Anonymous said...

holy shit!

bshawise said...

Triple C,

Your equation is brilliant. Well said.

tyler said...

Do you remember the time at the Digby when she left that hot mess in the front room (at least in one pile) and we shut the doors and left it there for you to clean up when you got home from work? Wow, good times.