Stanky Day

It's Jet. Well, it's not his fault. Jet is 4-years old, and I don't think he knows how to take a walk. Sad, really. That's part of what I'm doing with him. I'm getting him to learn how to take a walk. And enjoy it! Unfortunately, there are some unpleasantries associated with walking a dog. I know you know what I mean.

Normally, it's not a big deal. I have a little bag, we walk, we stop, I clean up, I tie a knot, we walk on, I throw it away when we get to Jet's house.

Today challenged me in ways I have not been challenged in many, many years. We started out, as normal, Jet was fine, not pulling the lead like he does after about 32 seconds, and we were chatting about what's new, etc. (as you do), and eventually he pulled off to a little patch of grass. I knew what was coming (or thought I did, at least!), and pulled the baggie out of my pocket.

*warning: don't read on if you have a weak stomach or a propensity towards vomiting.*

Jet hunched down and successfully eliminated a fair amount of waste. However, he did not stand up as normal...he kind of hunch-walked about 2 metres away, and waited. Then, well, poor guy was sick. The smell was awful. Serious stank. Then I waited. For the waves of nausea and dry heaving to pass long enough for me to scoop up as much of it as I could, and cover the rest with grass clippings. And then more waves of nausea. I was taking deep breaths. I was trying to think of other (pleasant smelling) things. I was praying "Dear God, in the name of Jesus, and Grandmas, and all things holy, please please please don't let me hurl my chocolate milk right now in this lady's garden. Please?" (He answered that one.) And after a t.r.e.m.e.n.d.o.u.s.l.y long minute, I was able to stand and start walking. But the waves of nausea and the dry heaves did not pass. I kept smelling The Stank. (I can smell it now! Gah!) Thankfully Jet lives in a neighborhood where people like to grow flowers and pretty smelling things in their front gardens. So, I literally stopped to smell every rose for the next 18 houses.

I was able to return to normal, pretty much, for the rest of the walk...as long as I didn't think about what I was carrying! And for the last 50 metres when Jet was really pulling on the lead, I had to say to him "Look, buddy. I'm carrying a bag of your stanky poo. There is nothing I would like more than to sprint home and get shod of this bag as fast as I can! But that's not what we're gonna do because I look too cute today to run down the street with a bag of stanky poo in my hand. So. We are going to walk at a nice, sophisticated pace all the way home."

And walk we did.