A Wonderful Summer Day/Poop-pocalypse Pt. II



T-minus 5 minutes to bowel eruption.

It isn't often that I feel the need to warn readers about content. There will be no gratuitious swearing nor descriptions of horrible violence to come in this space. There will, however, be a flashback to one of the grossest nights of my life. Avert your eyes if you are offended by the word poop. Well, it's too late now. You might as well keep reading. That's the worst word I'm going to use, though there might be some technical anatomical descriptions.

Saturday was marvelous. It was the first day temperatures and the humidity were both under 80. The Wife and I had been looking for a fresh-water river into which we could throw tennis balls for Daisy Duke, our 2-year-old chocolate Lab and the love of TW's life.

A tactical error was made.

We went to the Neponset River, which seemed like it might not be too salty for Daisy Duke. Daisy is a water enthusiast who enjoys swimming with great vigor to retrieve items. The problem is, when a tennis ball is in her mouth, her lower jaw goes well below the water line and she drinks/inhales water all the way back to shore.

Why go in water at all? Daisy Duke enjoys it with such enthusiasm that it feels like a crime to keep her away, and she hasn't swam since moving to Boston. And TW delights in watching our dog turn into a psychotic spaz.

It was going better than planned at the Neponset River. After about 15 minutes, boats and rafts started making their way past us, engaged in some kind of water fight. Kids were throwing water balloons at each other and squirting water guns. Some guy had something that looked like a potato gun. People wore goofy hats and somebody shouted at us. It was all in good fun. I even asked TW to take a photo of some of the boats, pictured above, because it was such an excellent experience.

After a half an hour of swimming, Daisy Duke was wearing down. Probably. It's hard to tell with her. She's every bit as spazzy on Minute 30 as she is on Minute 1, where tennis balls and large bodies are concerned.

TW was encouraging me to give Daisy Duke one last heave when I noticed she was having trouble breathing. This happens all the time, due to the water in the lungs issue.

Then she threw up in the grass at my feet.

"No, I think we're good here," I said.

I wasn't concerned. I'd sniffed the dog and her tennis ball to determine salinity of the water and didn't detect much. Besides, she's consumed massive quantities of water many times.

It became clear pretty quickly that it wasn't just a volume issue.

Daisy Duke jogged out of the grassy area, shook a few times to get the excess water off, and then proceeded to poop off to the side of the sidewalk. It was runny and it smelled vile. TW, normally an avid poop-picker-upper, decided to let this pile stay, as it was in deep grass. And wretched.

Then, she pooped a second time. Then a third. There was no consistency. It was brown water. As we walked along the sidewalk, we came upon a guy and a little fox terrier. We started to say hi, but Daisy threw up a couple of times on the sidewalk.

There's not much you can do for a dog who's consumed too much salt water. Daisy was fine, other than the fact she was pooping constantly.

Seriously. There's video of this kind of thing on YouTube.

At a point, the dog gave up on anything resembling dignity. She just walked down the sidewalk, occasionally spraying water out of her butt.

We, of course, felt horrible. But there's nothing much to do. You can't put the dog in the car because, well, it's your car. Even with 165,000 miles on it, we still care a tiny bit about our little SUV. All we could do was walk her around the sidewalks, give her some *fresh* water, and wait for the storm to subside.

It only took about a half hour for the intestines to calm down. Daisy lapped up a bucket of water that TW had the foresight to bring from home. When we got back home, Daisy destroyed her water bowl (which was filled with filtered water, naturally). Later, in the park, she wheezed and gagged while chasing a tennis ball in the park. There was still a little salt water in her lungs.

She peed heavily, the normal way, the remainder of the day. She didn't have a stroke or a seizure, which is good. Today, at the park, she grabbed a random tennis ball and continually dropped it at my feet. She isn't scarred by her experience with tennis balls. And I guarantee she'd belly flop back into the river with no second thoughts. Or thoughts of any kind. She's a dog. That's what she's programmed to do.

She didn't learn her lesson, but her owners did.