Today, Judi requested that I go over to let Jackson, the Carmonas' adorable golden lab, out to pee. I wanted to do one better than that, so I decided to take him
for a walk. He's usually very good with me on the leash and we haven't had one of our buddy walks in a long while. It's a beautiful day, too. But while I still love my sweet "rental-dog", he sure did throw me for a loop today.
I let him out first to pee and/or poop and he just looked at me like, "So? Are we leaving?" I supposed that he didn't have any 'business' to do, so I clipped on the leash and set out on our way. As soon as we got all the way up the street (and I do mean UP in the literal sense of the word), he gave me that look. You know the one. There was no way to stop this act anymore than one could halt the waves in the ocean. And let me tell you--it had to be at least three days' worth of 'business'.
Oh Jackson.
So this pregnant woman waddled her way back down to the Carmona homestead in search of plastic bags. There was NO way I'd leave that on a neighbor's lawn, no matter how far away they live. We maneuvered our way back up to the house--by this time, I was panting and we'll say 'glowing'--so that I could pick it up. Amazingly the poop fairy hadn't come. Dang.
To my credit, I didn't gag once, and luckily, there was a trash can nearby so that said 'business' didn't have to accompany us on our walk. Perhaps this stint is just fate's way of getting me--the ultimate super prissy girly-girl--to acknowledge that I'll have to deal with so many more bodily fluids in the near future...
I hope he's happy.
