I was awakened to the lovely smell this morning; and it wasn’t Folgers in my cup. It was poop.

The smell was overpowering. The  pack was still safely tucked away each in their own crate which were at least 35′ and 1 closed door from where I was laying. I’d always heard that a dog wouldn’t “go” in their crate.

So as I laid there savoring the aroma I wondered- where was the poop?

Fearfully, I felt around under the sheet  to see if  Doug had perhaps had an extreme senior moment and had just forgotten to get out of bed and had just let shit fly while he was asleep, so to speak. (He never had before, but there’s a first time you know.)

Thank God I didn’t feel anything squish between my fingers. I was quite relieved. Still the stench was pervasive. I checked our bathroom, assuming Doug was in there and had just forgotten to do a courtesy flush. He hadn’t.

How men can sit in with that stench and continue to read is a mystery to me.

I got up and checked the hall bathroom to see if the perhaps the sewer had backed up- nothing there. This was perplexing.

By now, the pack knew I was up and about so they were too; barking ensued. One by one I checked them as I  let them out of their houses and out the back door.

Still nothing, til I got to Blackie.  We have a winner! I opened her crate and she ran out like her tail was on fire, dripping poop as she ran. It was a wonderful way to start the day.

So he wouldn’t feel left out, I got Doug (luckily before his shower) and apprised him of the situation, knowing that he’d be eager to share in the fun. And since Blackie’s crate is ginormous and awkward to carry, he was gallant enough to take it outside for me, throw away the pillows that were enrobed in poop and then wash the crate.

(Doug seizes on any opportunity to throw his cape over a puddle for me you know.) What a guy!

Finally, everybody else gets back in, I’ve cleaned up the drips from the Pergo, Doug’s left for work and I’m just settling in to look at emails and start my day when I hear….

AAARRRRGH!

I look to my left and there’s Blackie, hunching up.

I yelled STOP!, although looking back, that seems really stupid. I’ve been that sick before and if you’ve gotta go, you gotta go. I mean what did I expect her to do? I felt bad.

Now she’s standing next to a dinner size somewhat runny pile of something that should never be in a house, much less on carpeting. If she’d only moved one more foot and she would’ve made it on to the Pergo, an infinitely better place to have an “accident” of any sort; but alas, she did not.

I apologize to her for yelling while quickly ushering her outside lest anything else vile come spewing out.

Lucky for me I have a strong gag reflex I’m thinking as I’m cleaning it up with a spatula, then paper towels, then water, then Febreze.

The good news is that whatever she was suffering from seems to have now passed and none of the other 4  have it. If I had 5 at a time with this I might just run away with the “jitsies”.

So now I’m looking forward to a fun filled afternoon of using the carpet steamer in an effort to rid the room of the noxious smell.

The jitsies are looking better all the time.

When I was a semi-young mom (I had Brett when I was 31, Amanda at 33.) poop talk was not unusual. If you met with your friends back then, someone was always talking about their kids diaper rash, diarrhea or constipation-almost every mom I knew had those small glycerin suppositories at the ready should their little one need it. Brett was actually hospitalized when he was less than a year old because of diarrhea caused by Rotovirus. My friend Rosie actually left Ryan crawl around sans diaper for awhile in attempt to get his diaper rash healed. (That always seemed ill-advised to me for obvious reasons.)

Once my kids were potty trained I kinda thought poop talk would be a thing of the past. I mean adults really don’t talk about it much. If you have a problem as an adult you either wolf down some Immodium or a big bowl of prunes. (Depending on which problem you have.) Thanks to Dr. Oz though poop has been brought to the forefront again. Of course, Dr. Oz wasn’t the first doctor to be focused on our poop. Dr. Kellogg, founder of the Battle Creek Sanitarium in Battle Creek, MI was all about the poop. There was a movie spoofing him called The Road to Wellville. It has some parts that are really funny, some really bizarre. (Not a movie for the kiddos.)

Anyway, according to Dr. Oz, our poop should “enter the water like a cliff diver in Acapulco.” Until I saw Dr. Oz I never, ever, would have thought about that. Although as I am getting older I’m realizing that the whole poop thing should be more of a concern to me than it once was, since apparently it can signal  a plethora of health problems. I must be more vigilant! At any rate here is a link for those who really want to know more about this. Oprah slideshow