The Canine Crapperer

Quite possibly, I have seen more dogs take shits than anyone on earth.  I don’t know what it is, but whenever I’m in the presence of a canine, nature calls and the dog always answers with a big fat dump.  I’m not exaggerating. 

 I take our lab Yogi out each morning and he drops a deuce every time.  And he’s not shy about it.  You’d think he’d have the courtesy to hide behind a tree before he squats, but no, he poops right in plain view.  It’s almost as if he’s proud of his production.  “Hey look Dave, I just manufactured another solid Lincoln log.  Now feed me so I can make another.” 

But it’s not just Yogi.  Each day on my drive to the office, I see at least one pooch assume the position.  Shitting Shitzus.  Dumping Dalmations.  Crapping Collies.  They all fertilize lawns as I drive by.  It’s not like I’m looking for them.  Quite the contrary.  I’m convinced they’re looking for me.  Yesterday, I made a point to keep my eyes only on the road. I was so focused on driving down Queens Road West that Brooklyn Decker could’ve jogged by and my head wouldn’t have turned an inch.  I almost made it to work without a shit-sighting when a lady walking her beagle crossed the crosswalk at the intersection of East and Camden.  I am not BS-ing you, the beagle stopped and dropped right in the middle of the road.  And the Poopy Snoopy looked back at me and I swear he winked.  And what’s even worse, the lady didn’t pick up the turd.  So when the light changed I drove over it.  I got to the office and it was stuck to my tire.  You’ve heard of the Horse Whisperer.  I am the Canine Crapperer. 

Maybe they’re just relaxed around me.  That or I literally scare the shit out of them.  Whatever it is, it has long ceased being funny to me. 

What is funny to me is seeing a cow piss. 

When I was growing up, my Aunt Hallie had a funny saying.  Whenever it looked like rain, she’d say, “There’s a cloud coming up.  That rain’s fixing to come down like a cow pissing on a flat rock.”  Then she’d start laughing.  And her laugh is so infectious that I couldn’t help but start laughing too.  I would ask her, “Why is that so funny?,” and she would say, “Have you ever seen a cow piss?”  And I’d say no.  “Well if you had ever seen a cow piss, you’d think it was funny.”  “Why?”  I asked.  “Because cow piss comes out like water shooting out of a firehouse.  And it splatters all over everywhere.  Especially if the cow is standing on a flat rock.”  And then she would crack up again.  And then I would start laughing again.  “Some day David, I’m going to take you to see a cow piss.” 

Well, I think I was 11 when she made that promise and it was 30 years later when she actually fulfilled it.  Claire and the kids and I had driven to Butner to visit Aunt Hallie.  I think Sydney was about 8 and Lucas was 5.  We were trying to think of something to do to pass the time with the kids. Aunt Hallie suggested that we drive over to Stem and see the cows.  Sydney and Lucas were psyched.  We all piled into our Passat wagon.  Even Aunt Hallie’s dog Dutchess came along. 

We parked our car near the gate of the cow pasture where probably a hundred Ben and Jerry’s type cows were grazing.  Claire informed me they were Holsteins.  She went to college in Vermont so she should know.  There wasn’t much for them to graze on since it was mid February and the temperature was in the mid-thirties.  A couple the cows walked over to the fence right beside where we were standing.  Then it happened.  One of the big girl cows started peeing.  She wasn’t just peeing.  She was pissing.  “Look Lucas.  Look David.  Look Sydney.”  Aunt Hallie yelled, “That cow’s pissing.”  And she started laughing.  “It’s pissing on a flat rock.”  “Bah ha ha ha.”  Her laugh rang through the chilly air.  And the more that cow pissed, the more Aunt Hallie laughed. “Bah ha ha ha.” 

Steam rose like a geyser when the cow piss hit the ground.  And then a second cow started pissing.  And then a third.  Before we knew it there must have been 50 cows standing within 20 yards of us pissing and splattering and steaming up the whole field.  The only thing louder than the piss hitting the ground was our symphony of laughter.  Lucas and Sydney were cracking up.  I was crying I was guffawing so hard.  Claire was cackling.  She told me later that she almost peed in her pants.  It was synchronized pissing on a flat rock. “Bah ha ha ha.  Bah ha ha ha.” 

After a couple of minutes, the downpour finally subsided.  I asked Aunt Hallie if she had ever seen this happen before.  She said, “No, I’ve never seen anything like it.”  “Me either.”  I said.  “I’ve never seen a cow piss before.”  And Aunt Hallie replied, “Well, those cows must feel real comfortable around you David.  Bah ha ha ha.  Bah ha ha ha.” 

Since the show was over and the kids were getting cold, we decided to load up the car and head back to Aunt Hallie’s house.  I put the car in reverse, looked behind me and started backing up.  Aunt Hallie said, “Wait, where’s Duchess?”  I put the car back in park and looked out through the windshield and there she was.  Squatting by the fence of the cow pasture.  Taking a dump.

 

6 responses
Funny shit David!
All I want to do is see a cow piss now.
Love it.
I laughed. Out loud. Kudos.
Hey. You forgot to mention Yogi taking a dump on the Carlin's living room floor at suppe club!!! hahahahahaha
OMG, Mary Beth, I really should've mentioned Yogi assuming the position and dumping in the middle of supper club. On the white carpet. :-) That was just another example of my unusual connection with dogs.

Scott, Kelsey, Ted and Jim: Glad you enjoyed the story.