I have a unique fetish. I like to watch dogs poop. I think it’s so funny, the way they sometimes shake or look embarrassed yet do their business in public. I try not to let their human companions know that I’m looking on, but sometimes, it’s too mesmerizing not to stare. Since leaving the city, I don’t get to see pooping dogs as much as I used to. The myriad of breeds and owners have been replaced by a dude with a German Shepard who lives down the street.
However, since Sister Alyson got her own puppy, I thought I would have ample opportunities to watch the magic of canine waste disposal. This past weekend, my parents invited us all over for dinner to have some of the delicious Jersey corn and other fresh and pre-made foods available at the supermarket. Lola the dog was invited so between reading Harry Potter 7 and doing my laundry, I took her outside for a walk a few times, hoping that I would get to see the elusive poop. For some reason, she wasn’t comfortable in New Jersey, and she held it in all weekend.
After a harrowing trip back to the city in my car, I dropped of Lola & Sister Alyson on the corner a few blocks from their apartment and circled to find parking. When we all rendezvoused back at her place, Alyson told me that Lola went right to her comfort zone (the mean streets of Grammercy Park) and let out the biggest poop of her life. And I missed it. It’s not the same for me watching cats, but I may take the dome off of Micki’s litter box for a few days, just to make up for missing the mother lode.
