Why The Fan Needs Cleaning

Last night, as usual, Dearly Beloved let Miss Piggy out for a last tinkle before he went to bed.  It never IS her last;  I usually have to let her out again before I go to bed.

The “show” she puts on for DB is purely a con on Miss Piggy’s part.  She runs out and squats.   Since it’s dark,  DB has no idea whether she does anything or not.  I’d vote NOT, but she comes running back inside, wagging not just her stubby little tail but her whole back side like she’s telling him, “I squatted on that cold wet grass and did a fabulous job just for you.  I definitely deserve a treat for it!” And DB FALLS FOR IT!!!

When I let her out at 11, she pees, she comes back inside, and heads for bed.  No whooping and bragging.  Pretty much the same procedure I follow.

The relationship that has developed between Miss P and DB  is hilarious to watch.  He talks to her.  Before retirement, he would never have imagined himself chatting with a canine.  Yesterday, for instance,  the three of us took a walk. When we returned home, he asked, “Did you enjoy that, Girl?”

I smiled and said that indeed I had.  When I saw his startled  look, I realized he’d been talking to the dog.

So, last night when he let her out, I figured the usual con would be in place, but when she raced back into the house, DB called out, “Wait!  What have you got in your mouth?  Drop it!”

She did.  The frozen turd landed a few inches from his bare feet.

DB is squeamish about bodily functions.  He still prefers to believe that I don’t have BM’s or perspire or (gasp!) have gas.  Anything HE does is never mentioned.  Advanced reverse osmosis handles it all.  Neatly, cleanly, no need for flushing.

When he realized exactly what was lying there,  he freaked out.   In other words, the excrement hit the fan.  Mr. Never YellsOrCurses began doing both,.

“Do you know what that IS?  That’s a damn turd!”

Certainly, I knew what it was.  I assume he was talking to “Girl.”   She probably guessed “tasty morsel.”

Whereas I would have gotten a little toilet tissue, picked it up, flushed it, and cleaned up with a disinfectant wipe,  Drama King pulled a plastic newspaper bag up to his elbow to remove the offending lump.  He continued to yell that it was “a damn turd!

Their relationship is still a little strained this morning.  No friendly dog chat.  As they walked out the front door I heard him inform her that she was still on his… um… these are not his exact words. .. . Let’s call it his…um… Damn Turd List.

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19 thoughts on “Why The Fan Needs Cleaning

  1. Carol

    How Funny! Men are such nimkampoops when it comes to this kind of thing. We girls got over turds when we had babies! I’d have gone your route!! 🙂

  2. That is hilarious! I just love your blog.

    My hubby talks to the dogs, too. The other night, we were sitting on the couch and he said “Oh, I just love you.” I turned and told him I loved him too, to which he responded “Oh. I was talking to Rufus. But, I love you, too!”

    Really, was it necessary to clear that up?!? 🙂

    1. Tell me that he didn’t cover the dog’s ears when he told you that! And that you for the nice Comments, Mallory. I enjoy your blog, too. Smart lady you are! (Oh. . . and I wouldn’t worry about hubby’s affections. After all, I’ll bet he didn’t give Rufus a red bull to tell him he was “adora-bull!” Funny man!)

  3. Oh my Lord, did you make me laugh! Sorry DB had to find out that way that some dogs eat (or try to!) their excrement! I’m surprised he was still willing to walk Miss Piggy after that little discovery.
    My Lexi will do that too, but only if she has an accident in the house but I can usually catch her before she actually eats it. I sometimes wonder if she’s trying to remove the evidence.
    Okay, I’ve got work to do but I’m still laughing!
    Great post… again!

  4. I’m a little put out you find it strange that DB talks to your dog. I talk to mine, and as my wife points out, I always pause to hear Chelsea’s responses before continuing. Since I too am retired, I no longer have colleagues to hold hostage with my famous opinion pieces out in the corridor. And since my wife has many purposeful duties and interests that often keep her from these fascinating reflections, there we are, Chelsea and me, left to tidy up all the loose ends left by the world’s movers and shakers.
    About Miss Piggy’s deceptions at bedtime: Chelsea plays no such games. She wears a watch–we have never found it, but know it’s on or in her person–and she checks it often. When it’s time for another outing, she simply stares at me until the moral force of her one good eye accomplishes its objective.
    The best thing about dogs for retirees is that they provide structure. My day is organized around anticipating the next non-verbal message from She Who Must Be Obeyed. And I’m not talking about Rumpole’s wife.
    Barry Knister
    http://drinksbeforedinner.com

  5. unabridgedgirl

    This cracks me up. My dog does the same thing with my dad. He PRETENDS to go to the bathroom outside, and my dad falls for it EVERY time. With me? Not so much. And my dad would have the same reaction about the poop.

  6. cw

    lololol….. i’m surprised your DB doesn’t wear plastic gloves when he takes her out for a walk!:) lolololol…love that visual of DB reaching for the long plastic bag to cover his hand and arm to pick up the offending ‘remains’!! lololol :)):):)

  7. My Hero would have pretended not to notice the offending turd until after I had picked it up. That, or gag and threaten to vomit. Either way, I am the clean up crew.

  8. I love it! And I love how his relationship has with her has shifted since retirement. But what really cracks me up is his shock at the “damn turd!” Too funny!

  9. DB should be thankful that Miss Piggy understands “drop it.” Our Lucy thinks it means, “Oh, they are going to pry open my mouth and stick their fingers in it.” Thank goodness she hasn’t (so far) picked up a frozen bit of poop.

  10. LOL. Have you seen the popular video on YouTube that shows how men change (or NOT) diapers? It’s hilarious. And this post totally reminds me of that. 🙂

  11. Well thank goodness it was frozen I suppose…..easier to pick up….and aren’t these men something with talking to the dogs….and thinking we women are stupid….Boo refuses to come in the house for me when he’s out in his run….I swear one night I saw him give me the finger….But the Boss told me that the dog knows that I’m not being “sincere’ when I call him and that’s why he doesn’t come in…..All he has to do is open the back door…give a flick of his wrist and the dog comes running…..SO why is it I’m always the one that gets stuck trying to get him inside…..

  12. Pingback: A Yard of This, A Yard of That…! « Merrilymarylee's Weblog

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