A Bad Day for Boo-Boo’s Behind

Muggins and I noticed this morning that Boo-Boo was acting strangely during her mid-morning walk (as opposed to her early morning or late-morning walk). We thought that maybe she was constipated – a genius conclusion, since she kept squatting and squeezing, but then when I’d swoop in with my poop bag, there was nothing. Not a trace of poop to be rewarded! Then she would look at us, walk 5 feet, and sit down again, rubbing her tush on the concrete. The poor thing was practically waving a sign. “I’m going to hold her up,” I said to Muggins. “Look at her ass and tell me what you see.” Muggins, who usually needs glasses to see me six inches away, took a look and immediately said, “We have to go home right now. We’ve got work to do.” Then I looked. I couldn’t believe Boo-boo could even move with the stopper of dog poop she was walking around with. We whisked her upstairs and deposited her in the kitchen sink, which she hates because it usually means she’s getting a bath. But she felt lousy, so she let us go about our business, up in her business.With the concentration of a diamond-cutter, Muggins took a warm washcloth and got to work, while issuing instructions. “Fix my glasses!” he’d command. “More water!” “I’m almost done!” “Give her one of her hot dog treats!” I tried to be as good a nurse as I could. We lifted Boo-boo out of the sink and she scurried away from me to her hideout under the dining room table. After giving her a few minutes to dry off, we conducted a second exam to see if we needed to cut out any infected hair with a scissor. She patiently let Muggins hold her while I inspected. She seemed to be all cleaned up. That was three hours ago, though, which means she’s missed three walks. She’s been sleeping ever since, though she woke up long enough to nose around the kitchen floor. Who knows what she picked up, since we had tunafish sandwiches and pickles for lunch. We might well be back on Poop Patrol in a few hours.

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2 responses to “A Bad Day for Boo-Boo’s Behind

  1. Oy. Theo Fannybrice did something similar soon after he joined the family. We, too, dunked him into our tub and went to work. Afterwards, he slunk into his cage and wouldn’t come out – even to pee – for 24 hours. When some friends came by, he all but spoke English begging them to remove him from our house of horrors. That was 4 years ago. He may have forgiven us.

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