Posts Tagged poop

How I Made Dad Proud

After reading my dear friend Chuck’s account of his colonoscopy, I was reminded of an event that will forever be etched into my brain.  Although Chuck still has that portion of his brain intact that allows him to edit himself, sparing you all from the horrid details of his excrement adventure that day, I am lacking that function.

I was probably 14 or 15 years old when I had an excrement experience that will be etched into my brain until the day I die. It was summer and I had been on the picnic circuit for days — my colon was crammed full with burgers and dogs, BBQ chicken, chips, and all the other gastronomic delights that can be found at summer picnics at the Jersey shore. It had been at least four or five days since I had released a grunion, and I could tell that when the time came, it was going to be a workout.  Finally my water broke, and I knew that delivery was well on the way. I retired to the bathroom, sat, and prepared for battle.

The pressure was intense. I grunted and stretched my cheeks as wide as possible and tried to force the rabbit out of his hole; but I was unsuccessful. It felt as if it had a head on it from all of the back-up behind it. I pushed and hoped that my distressed sphincter would open wide enough to allow the thing to pass.

Now ten minutes in to the ordeal, I began to sweat and breathe heavily as it finally started through. I rested my head against the wall, gripped the bowl for dear life, and kept squeezing.

And then — it was moving! The head crowned and I could feel it starting to pass faster. It was exhilarating — one last grunt and the behemoth was out.

I was both afraid and extremely curious to look into the depths below at what I knew was lying beneath the water. I sat for another minute to regain my composure and slow my breathing to a normal pace. When I reached back to wipe my distended hole, I was amazed that there wasn’t any blood or hanging organs, and only very light skid marks. Another swipe or two and the paper was clean; so I stood and got my first look at the monster.

I couldn’t believe what I saw. On average it was as thick as a can of soda, and about 18 inches long. I could tell the length because it had fallen across the hole and didn’t go straight down it.

I flushed, hoping it would break and go down, but lady luck was being a bitch that day. Only the paper went down. The creature simply spun in the bowl like Satan’s Spirograph, leaving circular skid marks around the porcelain.

I tried in vain three more times to flush it away, but it wouldn’t leave. So I did what any 15-year-old would do: I got my dad.

Dad came in, looked in horror into the bowl, looked at me, looked into the bowl, looked back at me, and said, “Oh my god, are you OKAY!??!”

We shared a chuckle and he disappeared, returning armed with a piece of wood. We were laughing hysterically as he broke the beast into pieces so that it would flush.

Finally, Moby Shit disappeared into its watery grave.

To this day, more than 20 years later, my dad and I still laugh about it. I have not been able to reproduce that masterpiece since.


5 Things I Have Learned About Adopting a Puppy

The new puppyLong story short, my family adopted a puppy.  I’ll leave the why’s out of this, and just share the end result, but just know that we have two little kids under eight, and a dog that’s twelve.  We believed we were prepared, because about 20 years ago, I raised a puppy.  My wife never has.  We were not prepared. So here are the 5 6 things we have learned.

1. Don’t Believe Everything You Read
What this means is don’t believe everything you read about how the adopting agency lists the dog.  Spayed/neutered? Check. House-trained? Check. Shots up to date and de-wormed? Check.
Reality? Check please!!  Turns out that “copy and paste” errors affect the website author just as it does the rest of us.

2. Get To Know Your Carpet
Learn and inspect every inch of your carpeting about every 22 minutes.  About half of my first floor in my house is carpeting, the other half being flooring of some kind (hardwood, tile or vinyl).  The entire second floor is carpeted.  Puppies seem to appreciate carpeting in the same way that theylike dropping their asses on grass outside.  It must be the feeling between their toes.

3. Get Up and Personal With Your Dog’s Poop
Poop, crap, excrement, shit, number two, Crohnsicles, doo-doo… no matter what you call it, if your Vet says to keep an eye on it, you better.  Much like our own brown deposits tell us volumes about our health, eating habits and excessive drinking, the Baby Ruth’s that these tiny beasts drop sometimes contain living creatures of their own.

4. Your Vet Is Your Friend
By “friend” I mean that friend that is always asking you for lots of money, and shows you no compassion for the journey you have now decided to undertake.  The only good thing is they are probably the only people in the world that you can hand a bag of crap to without any repercussions.  I add to this tiny pleasure of mine by bringing in a good eight pounds of the steamers when they only require about an ounce.

5.  Establish Dominance
Puppies aren’t very bright.  Much like their bladders, they don’t seem to have large brains.  She makes up for brain power by exerting pure energy, mostly at inopportune times.  Our old dog just wants to be and live out his remaining time in peace.  He, much like me, just wants to lay around and be left alone.  Our puppy has other, very playful, thoughts.  She nips and jumps, and his irritation has given way to growling, to baring teeth, to vicious barking… we fear what’s next.  He can snap her scrawny neck quick, but she doesn’t seem to recognize that possibility.  She does act submissive, but unfortunately our old guy is blind, all he knows is that she’s nearby and annoying as hell.  With me, on the other hand, she bites my hands, arms, ankles and calves.  Trust me, I will always be on guard when exiting the shower.  I have to flip her on her back and hold her there while trying to stare into her eyes to establish my dominance… all the while she is making sounds like “The Tiny Warrior” from Ace Ventura: When Nature Calls.

6. It’s Worth It
For the expected “awwwww” moment, I have to say it was all worth it.  It is one of the most rewarding things to know that you saved this loving and needy creature from a possible horrible fate, either by the cruel and heartless acts by those out for their own sick enjoyment, or by the financial shortcomings of the organizations trying to save the animals.  We adopted our first dog almost twelve years ago, and found out that he would have been put down the following day if he wasn’t adopted on that day.  Our newest pup was rescued “from a very bad situation” down in Virginia.

Welcome to our family, little girl.

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Andy vs. The Pootomac

Well, my relaxing Saturday was shattered by the sound of my son shouting “Hey Daddy, the toilet is exploding!” I’m sure most parenting experts would agree that this is a bad sign. So I ran upstairs and saw about a ½ inch of water on the bathroom floor with varying sizes of feces floating around. And more was gushing out of the toilet. It looked like the engine room of the Titanic except that instead of seawater it was toilet water and there were turds in place of icebergs. From the manner in which the rest of the family was looking at me, I knew it was one of those nasty jobs that everyone expected Dad to fix. (Sure to be forgotten by the time Fathers Day comes around). So I walked in, gagging from the floaters and the smell and turned off the valve to the toilet.

Now the flow of water was stopped but I needed a mop and bucket to clean up the floor. You would have thought that I had asked for a rod of plutonium. I ask for the mop and bucket and everyone scatters… and never return. I’m waiting… waiting… waiting… all while standing in the middle of this vast Pootomac. Finally my wife comes back and hands me a mop… but not a real mop, mind you. It’s a mop handle with an old towel attached to the bottom. My Mother-in-Law, God bless her,  is one of the few human beings whose cheapness rivals even my own, and this “franken-mop” is one of her cost savers. Let me tell you, it did a great job of just swirling around the poo-water and creating nasty little currents around my feet. But, it didn’t do much in terms of soaking up the water. Without any other option, I kept at it and in about 20 minutes I had the floor generally dry.

But the most formidable task still remained…picking up all of the loose crap from the floor. I asked for gloves, wipes, and bleach…and again I waited…waited…waited… until someone finally brought me what I needed and I started to work on cleaning up my personal “Craptrina”.  While I’m doing this, I start to wonder who the actual Poopetrator might be. My son of course claimed innocence, saying he just took a pee and that the toilet was “already filled” with crap. Hummmmm, do we have a Ghost Pooper? My brother claims to have a Ghost Cat, so I suppose a Ghost Pooper is possible. But I believe a key part to solving this mystery appeared when I lifted up the toilet seat and saw the top of the bowl covered with partially digested corn remnants. There is only one person in the house who has a favorite meal of “Mashed Potatoes, Corn and Ketchup” and that is my son. He still claims innocence but as they say on CSI, “Follow the evidence.”

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