Potty Time Mayhem

At Dogwood, there are three words that can both provide either joy, or complete terror.

Those words are “Let’s Go Potty”.

 These simple words can bring on a reaction that would make a layman wonder if either war had been declared, or if a nuclear warhead was dropping outside the window.

But to the canine four legged felons who inhabit Dogwood, they are a call to action.

Like stallions they run for the back door, with me in the lead, hoping to get it open before they pounce. But in my efforts, I usually forget the storm door. But I needn’t worry. Linus burst it open with a flying ninja kick that sends it back against the side of the house with a FWAP!

The irony of this little exercise in futility is that, once the hounds have cleared the door and are on the pavement, they suddenly look at me like, “What are we doing out here?”

Then I begin the ten to fifteen minute encouragement phase of our trip to bountiful. Translation: GO POOP!

Charlie wanders through the yard like he’s never been there before. But he is the first to offer up offerings to the poop gods.   Lucy will run to the edge of the pavement, drop her load, and strut back like she just left me a bag of diamonds on the grass.  Daisy and Linus have a hard time concentrating on making the drop. They are too busy chasing each other around, flinging leaves and mud everywhere. If Duchess Daisy truly needs to “go”, she’ll stop mid romp and let it fly. Trying to get Linus to achieve escape velocity is another chore indeed. He has no idea what he’s supposed to do except chase Daisy and run circles through the gates.

Ahhh, my little goof. I love him so.

Hines has to sniff everywhere (and I mean everywhere) to find that one special spot of undesecrated ground in which leave his tiny caveman club’s. Squirt has no such special requirement. He can drop his junk anywhere and be perfectly happy. 

There whole process can take anywhere from ten to fifteen minutes, depending on the level of stubbornness they are feeling and the weather conditions. God forbid that the grass should be wet or that it should be raining. Charlie is the only brave heart of my bunch that will venture out into the wet.

All the rest are either afraid of that strange wet stuff falling from the sky or just too darn picky to get their feet wet.

As you all know---sugar melts.

As the herd grazes the yard, I enjoy a smoke and keep an ever vigilant eye on their behavior and their progress.  As the old saying goes, “Sometimes you win, sometimes you  lose”.

After the time is up, and hopefully the mission completed, I call to them with the next magic word, “Cookie” and the stallions once again bound past me, through the open door and into the kitchen for tiny morsels of goodness brought to us by the good people at “Milkbone’.

Once the craving for treats has been satisfied, and the urge to have a bowel movement in the kitchen floor (it happens) has passed, my six little canine convicts are ready to once again do what they do best: sleep and watch TV.

But in the end, I can’t blame them. It’s what I do best too.