Setting: Suburbia, USA, around dusk. Manicured lawns, sidewalks, children playing, yard work in process.
Nick and I are walking along, having an in-depth discussion about any number of seemingly insignificant situations, when suddenly, Chino decides that he has to poop. As usual, I'm holding the leash and Nick is holding the poop bags (because we are responsible dog owners) and like a well rehearsed scene from a play, we assume our positions while Chino assumes his.
As he's mid-dump, we see kids coming down the street. Since Chino doesn't always understand the concept of anyone under 5'0" tall, we knew that we'd have to shorten his leash a bit, to avoid an awkward situation wherein Chino jumps on and scares a neighborhood child. Instinctively, I wrap his leash around my hand, for added leverage, all the while hoping that he'll just focus on the task at hand and ignore the bicycle riding children.
At the point that we are passed by the child, Nick has the leash and I'm reaching for the treats to try to use bribery to elicit good behavior distract him (Chino, not Nick) Chino lunges to jump on the kid (bad dog) and at the exact same moment realizes that he's got a hanger, if you will. So, mid-leap, he's pulled back by Nick's cat-like reflexes and then twists around to see what in the hell is hanging out of his ass. He realizes its a turd and begins proceedings to remove the offending turd from his ass and deposit it in the grass, where it belongs. As this is happening, he backs himself into me, while Nick joins the chase and tries to pluck the turd from his ass, bag on hand, of course.
Somehow, some way, Nick is able to detach the turd and I escape the whole ordeal unharmed. I did however start a laughing fit, the deep breath, tears streaming down my face, sounds like I'm crying, laughing fit. I hope that the picture I just painted for you will be the kindling for your own.
Moral of the story: Don't eat hair
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