The Crap Master

Part of the responsibility of being a pet owner and camping, is you must clean up after your dog/dogs do their big business.

We save our plastic WalMart bags just for the task of crap handling.

At home we bag the cat crap from the cat box.

When it comes to camping, we stuff WalMart bags in each pocket, go for a walk, and pray that said bags don’t have any holes in the bottom when its time to use them.

Dogs always go at the least opportune time. Peaches will crimp up at the feet of someone you are talking to. Then I must casually whip out a WalMart bag and grab the steaming pile and tie it off, all while acting like this is normal.

This afternoon all four went at once. Gigi was the crap master and bound it all up.

Now aren’t you glad I blogged about this?

2 comments:

Michael said...

Yes! I, for one, am glad. Welcome to my world :) I take Goliath to work everyday. We have a minimum of two, sometimes as many as five dogs in the office. We take a break and give them a walk around the grounds a couple times a day with bags in hand (although we're partial to Pueblo and KMart bags, no Wal-Mart here).

This wouldn't be so bad if it was just Goliath. His poo is usually about the size of a pencil stub. But Caesar, only a couple pounds more than G, craps like a dog three times his own size. And the latest addition is Fero, my bosses full-size german shepherd, I won't even describe his.

Personally, I think they take perverse pleasure in picking their spots. We can walk all the way 'round two large buildings. They'll stop, sniff, and reply to pee-mail the whole way, then squat to dump a load right in front of diners at the cafe.

Reggie said...

Pee-mail. That is funny.

Yeah, each has their own signature for sure.