Today was quite the day. Jeff got off work early so we decided to take our beloved Sammy on a walk. We went to Memory Grove (which for some reason I always want to call Heritage Hills). While at Memory Hills... Heritage Grove...whatever...we encountered a woman who encouraged us to let Sammy off his leash. This woman was a complete stranger to us, nonetheless, we listened to the woman who knows nothing about our dog and let Sammy off the leash. Sammy loved this. He had the time of his life. He was going up all of the trails, exploring every facet that Heritage Hills has to offer. This leads me to the punch line of my story. Sammy decided to wander off just a little bit above us behind some bushes. Even though we couldn't see him we let him explore, because he was doing so well at staying close to us. After about a minute or so we called him back. Sammy came running down the trail as fast as he could. He seemed so happy, so alive! He also seemed dirty like he was covered in muu-oh wait, no not mud,
POOP. Sammy had
poop all over him!!!! Now these are the moments that define us as people. This could be a moment where you get upset, and wish that you had never let him off the leash. A moment where you could be negative about the whole situation. Or, you could laugh. I chose to laugh. I laughed, and then we took action. Jeff took him to the creek so Sammy could wash off. So there Jeff was, in the creek, trying to wash off a dog covered in
poop with his bare hands!! I could see he was struggling so I suggested that he use his shirt to wash him. (Don't worry, he had an undershirt.) Now, this was especially tragic considering that this was my favorite shirt of Jeff's. However, the comedy of the scene prevailed as I watched Jeff take off his shirt and begin to get
poop all over it. It goes without saying that Jeff just threw that shirt away after he was done washing Sammy. Well, after a dip in the creek we decided that we should leave Memory Valley. The ride home was nothing short of smelly. Sammy was in the back smelling like
crap, while my head was sticking out the window, as if I was the dog in the situation. So, we went home and bathed him. We shampooed him twice, and we clipped his hair. Now, Sammy is a very special dog. He is deathly afraid of the clippers. (He also rolls in
poop) So, to combat his fear we did what every insightful human would; we drugged him. We gave him some special calming medicine for dogs. That and a combination of me petting him and speaking to him as if I had birthed him (so baby talk) seemed to do the trick.
Well after that was done we decided to buy him a new collar. And then something else happened. We decided to just buy him stuff. I don't know the psychology behind buying your dog stuff, after he just rolled in
poop, but it happened. I mean we bought him a water tank that has a filter. I bought my dog that rolls in
poop a water tank that filters his water. In short I now know how to get Jeff to buy me a diamond necklace.
POOP. POOP. POOP. POOP. POOP. POOP. POOP
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This is me really coming to terms with what had just taken place at Heritage Cove. |
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This is Sammy right after his bath. Can you tell he needs a haircut? |
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This is just here because it's cute. |