Drama Queen

OK.  Now I understand why Einstein is the Drama King.  We live with the Drama Queen.

On Saturday, as you may recall, I didn’t want to poop on our morning walk.  In fact, I didn’t want to poop all day.  So at 8:30 Saturday night, when I still hadn’t pooped, my human’s blood pressure was off the charts.  You humans and your dog poop obsession.  There should be an actual psychological term for it. K9POOPOCD.  I finally went, when I was starting to worry that she would pass out from high blood pressure.
Sunday morning, I again would not poop.  She walked me and Einstein and no results from me.  It was a bit ridiculous- because I HAD just gone the night before.  But because Mr. Poop Machine, Einstein, went TWICE- she figured I must need to go. The K9POOPOCD kicking in big time.  She just needed coffee.
Anyway, we came home and instead of leaving me with Einstein, I went for ANOTHER walk – with the FG.  He of course did his thing, but no results from me.  We walked and walked.
She didn’t want to take us on the public trail, as she knew it would be muddy.  But when I didn’t produce results, she begrudgingly went that way.  That’s what I wanted all along.
The only problem?  The trail was beyond muddy.  There were puddles and thick soft mud.  I walked along the edges, but of course the FG didn’t care where he walked.  He plodded right through it and my human tried desperately to avoid the worst patches because she didn’t want her favorite walking shoes all covered in mud.  She was mumbling what a bad idea this was, and thought about turning back, but we were already half way through our loop.  There was no way out, so we might as well continue. 
FINALLY, I had a poop.  She was OVERJOYED and offered LOADS of treats.  The FG just stared at the two of us like we were aliens.  Muddy aliens.
So we continued on the trail, with a much happier human.  And guess what?  I pooped again!!! But this time, the results were hmmmmm….soupy.  All over my butt.  Sorry to be graphic but you are dog people.  And at this point, all of those dog owners who have short coated breeds, like Dobermans or Weimaraners are breathing a sigh of relief for their choice of canine…
We got home and I was whisked into the tub for a clean up.  After me, the FG went in to rinse off the mud.
So you would THINK that’s the end of the Drama Queen’s story.  The drama of poop and mud.  But no. 
Humans tend to overthink lots of things- leading to more drama.  My human now started worrying WHY I had some soupy poop.  I’m telling ya – K9POOPOCD. Did I eat something I shouldn’t have?  Did I have a blockage?  Seriously.  A little bit of soupy poop and she’s already got me in surgery for a bowel obstruction.  But what could I have eaten?  Suddenly she remembered “the mitten.”  When she was getting ready to walk us, she realized that one of her mittens was not with the other.  
She remembered “something” about the mittens on Friday morning when she threw them on the counter as she grabbed her car keys to capture the escaped Picard. She hadn’t worn her mittens on Saturday because the weather was warmer.  But now there was only one mitten on the counter.  So only ONE thing could possibly have happened.  I ate it.  Causing the soupy poop.  A serious K9POOPOCD flare up.  But first – she should search for the mitten- on the off chance that it was somewhere else.  Not in the yard.  Not in the garage where she thought it would be.  Not in the car.  Not in the closet.  Wait!  Why not look at hours worth of video recording on Big Brother- to SEE when I had stolen the mitten from the counter.  (As an aside, I have never eaten a mitten.  Yes- I did eat the bananas – peels and all.  But I have never stolen mittens from the counter.). I am not a Bernese.
All the time she is obsessively searching for the mitten, Einstein is shouting for breakfast. She finally had to feed us – and went back to her search.
Just as she was contemplating my after blockage surgery care, and I think just after she invoked the intercession of the wrong saint to help her find the mitten ( St. Anthony is the patron of lost things.  I think she mistakenly prayed to Saint Jude who is the patron of lost causes – which in this case was probably not that far off), she moved a winter hat that was on a table in the garage and low and behold, saints preserve us- there was the mitten!!!!  A glorious discovery!!  Time for singing and dancing!  That which was lost has been found!!!  Tragedy averted.  Treats for everyone.
So there you have a typical morning in our household. And although this is April 1st,  none of this is a joke.  Drama Queen at her best.  Saints preserve us indeed.
Have a good one. Peace and paws up.
Seizure free days: 9

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