That's Nasty

I really wanted my first post of 2008 to be something enlightening, thought provoking and profound. It figures that my first post would, instead, be about poop. Mike and I often discuss the age-old question of "If you could be any animal, what would you be?". I don't really know why we have this conversation as often as we do, because my answer is always the same...I would want to be a duck. Ducks can swim, ducks can walk and ducks can fly so you get the best of three worlds. If ducks were to suddenly become extinct, my back-up choice would be a cat. Cats eat. Cats sleep. Cats eat. Cats sleep. Cats strettttttttttttttttch. And then they eat. And then they sleep. What a life. Not once have I ever said that I would want to be a dog. And now I know why.

Shandi has been in a bit of a funk since Jazz went to her new home last week. When I let Shandi out into the yard tonight, she started bucking like a horse and running crazy. I was glad to see her with some zip in her step. Then I looked a little closer. It looked like she had a dog biscuit in her mouth. No. Wait. It looked like she had a rock in her mouth. No, that's not right. It looked like she had a piece of her own poop in her mouth. Yeah.......that's what it was. She was running all over, flinging her poop high up into the air and then chasing it. When that game grew old, she nestled down into the snow, held the poop between her paws and proceeded to nibble on it, as if it were a turkey bone. And then I vomited, just a little, right in my mouth.