dog poo

This is post 1 in what I expect to be a series related to the “lockdown” in place in the UK as a result of the coronavirus pandemic in 2020. I expect there to be a series because the lockdown situation has meant that Pip, rather than going to school, has been spending a lot of time knocking around the house, which has given him an opportunity to establish some amazing new routines. One of the more bizarre ones is related to dog poo.

BACKGROUND

We are fortunate as a family to cohabit with a very nice dog by the name of Alfie. He welcomed himself in when Pip was five years old and showing a delight of all things canine. Since then, Pip has had a fairly on-off relationship with Afie. When it’s “on” Pip likes to be licked in the face and encourages this by illicitly feeding Alfie digestives or just by having a face covered in digestive crumbs. When it’s “off” Pip acts as if Alfie mostly isn’t there, much as he does around our other pets. Like all dogs Alfie disposes of his waste every day and usually chooses to do this on grass somewhere. This basically means our lawn a lot of the time, so we have a pretty slick scoop-it-up-in-a-mini-shovel-pop-it-in-a-bag-stick-it-in-the-wheelie-bin routine going on.

IMPACT OF LOCKDOWN

Up until lockdown Pip has taken zero notice of this routine. To all intents and purposes he was taking zero notice of any aspect of Alfie’s dog poo. Lockdown changed everything!

One day early into lockdown we had a really protracted in-and-out of the garage session during which it was clear Pip wanted something from the garage but we had no clue what. We went through all the usual suspects:

• gym balls to be pumped up
• bubble machine
• something in the washing machine he wanted
• we’d hidden something in the garage to get it out of circulation and he’d realised this and wanted it back*

After a bit of helpful shoving and hand holding by Pip we realised he wanted us to take a dog poo bag out of the packet in the garage. We were then escorted into the garden, directed to pick up the mini shovel, and then guided to pick up a newly deposited dog poo. Oh wow, Pip has been taking notice of this after all!

Later the same day, Pip again indicated that he wanted something out of the garage. Easy, we were thinking. He wants to pick up more dog poo! the Evidence:

• Exhibit 1: directing us to the garage
• Exhibit 2: cursory inspection reveals fresh dog poo on lawn; guilty looking dog
• Exhibit 3: Pip is patting himself on the bum, this is interpreted as a sign for “poo” because it’s what we tend to do to confirm olfactory readings that Pip has done a poo.

I very smugly trot into the garage to collect a bag but something is not quite right. Turns out after a bit of back and forth that there are two types of dog poo bag in the garage: green and black. And so we learn that sometimes Pip wants us to use green, sometimes black. There is a complex set of rules behind this which we don’t understand yet so Pip has to guide us to the correct bag each time. It’s usually the opposite of the one we have punted for.

So now we’ve lapsed into a nice routine where, roughly three times a day, Pip pats himself on the bum; guides us to the garage; helps us to select the correct dog poo bag; ensures we use the mini shovel; points out where the dog poo is before giggling hysterically as we bag it up; and monitors correct placement in the wheelie bin. No variation from this routine is allowed, goes without saying.**

Pros:

• lawn is being kept immaculate
• opportunity for signing: has since learned the correct sign for “poo”
• nice little lockdown activity to fill a dull moment

Cons:

• SOMETIMES THERE IS NO POO BUT WE HAVE TO PICK IT UP ANYWAY.

That’s right, sometimes there is no poo but we have to pick it up anyway. One morning Dad cleared away a dog poo before Pip had got out of bed. So when Pip did amble downstairs to start the day with a constitutional dog poo clear-up he’s basically horrified, and in a state of disbelief, to find none in the garden. But since we’d already begun the routine, and no-one knows how to exit without actually picking up dog-poo, we found ourselves patrolling the garden endlessly looking for poo that wasn’t there. In the end I managed to sneakily transplant onto the lawn a suspicious looking lump of soil and bag it super quick before it could be analysed. The subterfuge worked. LEARNING: don’t clear up dog poo without Pip being there to supervise.

PHANTOM POO (or THE BOY WHO CRIED POO)

Alfie used to be a fairly regular three-poos-a-day dog but since his exercise levels, and therefore diet, have been cut back during lockdown he isn’t quite as productive as he used to be. The first effect of this is that Pip isn’t getting as many op-poo-tunities as he used to and understandably he’s not happy about it. Often we get called out to clear poos that aren’t actually there, but should be there. We call these phantom poos. They are tricky things to deal with because they should be there, they just aren’t. And as it’s hard to prove a negative (TRUST ME PIP THERE ISN’T ANY POO!) phantom poos usually end up with all parties being frustrated. They also undermine the trust you have in the real poos, which actually are there but you don’t believe are there. (TRUST ME PIP THERE ISN’T ANY POO! OH HANG ON…THERE IS. SORRY.) I really wish Alfie would stop doing phantom poos and stick to the real ones.

*E.g. helium bottles; toilet rolls, tea bags. Don’t ask.

**Except for just the once when out of the blue Pip brought Dad an open bag of dog poo, while he was cooking lunch! Again, don’t ask.

The writing of this blog post was interrupted three six times by phantom dog poo.