Poop in my Hand
February 11, 2010 § 1 Comment
Yesterday I was honored the distinct displeasure of discovering what if feels like to hold warm poo in my hand. Not mine of course, but Navi’s. I knew I shouldn’t have laughed quite so hard when I saw Kyson trying to prevent Yohji from peeing on the carpet by blocking it with his bare hand.
Ah, the life of a dedicated pet owner. The other day my friend told me a story of how his dog got sick and how he had to take her poop out of her butt for her (it was stuck halfway). Apparently you need gloves and a pair of scissors. Doesn’t that sound horrifying? I can’t imagine how gross baby feces will look and smell like.
However, it’s possible that by that time I will be so used to handling poop that it will be second nature. Four years ago I would have left that cat turd alone to fester. When I was younger I would just cover messes with a paper towel and pretend that they didn’t exist. Hehe. I suppose one could say that with age comes an uncanny tolerence for handling remarkably stinky objects. Who knew?