This might shock some of you, but Lloyd poops a lot. It’s hard to imagine, I know, but he does. That’s not even the interesting part (and dog poop is FASCINATING to everyone, I know). The interesting part is that Lloyd is deeply convinced that he can only poop in a new spot every time, to the point where he prefers to stick his head into a thornbush just to destroy a fresh patch of the landscape previously unsullied. As far as he is concerned, he will continue to poop in a constantly expanding radius of devastation with our house at the centre, eventually covering the entire Carp River watershed with steaming St. Bernard poop.
Kind of gross to think about.
His plan would work too, except that Lloyd doesn’t know one thing: his poop never hits the ground. Unbeknownst to him (because I’m pretty sure he has never noticed) when I take him out for a poop I take a long handled scoop and hold it under his butt as he goes. He poops right into it and is never the wiser. As near as I can tell he is oblivious to the poop-knapping. I dump it into a compost hole dug for this purpose alone, and we are both happy.Â
The weird part is, if he’s so dumb, how does he keep track of where he has pooped if there is no evidence? Even in the winter, a fresh 30 centimeters of wind-blown snow is no match for his mental map.
What kind of marker is left when a spot has been used that is invisible to my senses? Some kind of radioactive marker, or permanent GPS tag that only his brain can keep track of?
I’m sure there is some kind of science at play here. Any dogpoop doctorates out there who can help me to understand this?
Oh boy, I can hardly wait for Paula to comment on this one!!! Too funny.
You got me. I don’t know anything about dogs or their excrement. I would venture a guess that it has something to do with the fact that poop often coincides with pee and no I can’t believe I just wrote that sentence. The muscles that hold in stool are stronger than those for urine, so a bit of urine often escapes when dogs poop. His scent is probably left behind despite your admirable yet slightly bizarre and humiliating potty practices. Frankly I can’t imagine cleaning up after a dog, especially one as large as Llyod. I have a hard enough time with my cats and they are extremely tidy and polite, always thoroughly covering up everything with their very convenient and efficacious clumping litter.
If I can’t sleep later I totally have to respond to an old post about Nikki sniffing laundry. I have some shocking news that could ruin summer for her. Plus I have similarly strange sniffing habits that I might be willing to share. Let’s just say Jason refuses to accompany me to stores that sell running shoes.