Thursday, January 7, 2010


Soon I’ll update you on the (non)success of Brian’s Neti pot. I actually meant to do that today, but I just got back in the house from my afternoon walk with Bo and I wanted to talk about that. Seems like I write so rarely about Bo, and it’s because I just don’t ever think I can find words to describe what Brian and I find so cute and funny about him. I’m sure part of it is the typical owner-exclusive love one has for their pet, and of course the other part is just that Bo is the best dog on the planet.

Anyway, Bo and I were greeted by an unusual sight today as we made our mid-day trip to the lake. Twenty geese or so, who usually taunt Bo as they swim near the shore, stood on the edge of completely frozen water, looking unsure of themselves. The lake hasn’t frozen over in the years that we’ve lived here, and sure enough, Bo instantly recognized that it was now possible for him to chase those geese as far as he wanted.

He raced toward the edge of the ice and the geese, very much alarmed, took flight and landed with several clacks in the middle of the frozen lake. I could imagine Bo crashing through the ice and so I demanded he stop. He screeched to a halt and looked longingly at the group of birds just walking around out there. Dismayed, he gave me an angry pout and turned away. He bent his nose to the ground and examined a pile of fresh goose poop. He took a long, fervent sniff and then, like a woman pressing a love letter to her heart, passionately lowered his upper body and gave a great roll.

“Bo!” I cried. He looked up quickly and stopped, but across his face was an enormous smile. Across his neck was a large green smear.

This was the second time in two days that he had done this. I suppose he must realize that it’s the coldest winter in Raleigh since, oh, 1843, and that I just adore getting soaked with the hose when I have to wash him off. And as much as he despises bath time, he hasn’t yet made the connection between rolling in poop and getting sprayed off with 33 degree water.

I told him to leave it and he did, but the deed had been done and his fate had been sealed. I returned to the house grimly, and Bo trotted ahead like a boy who’d just applied some sweet camouflage face paint and was off to play soldiers in the woods.

Once home, I collected the shampoo, leash, and towel while he continued to frolic. It was then, when he heard the hose turn on, that his energy was instantly drained. He fell to the ground and rolled onto his back, ears back, praying desperately. His tongue nervously licked his nose. I couldn’t help laughing, and I crouched down to rub his belly. “I’m not mad at you, Bo,” I said gently. “I just can’t leave that poop on your face.”

Oh, but he was a dying soldier, a fearful martyr, an abused child at the hands of the Devil himself! He blinked his eyes very slowly before closing them completely. He was very still.

He was perfectly pathetic.

I slipped the leash around his neck. “Come on, Bo,” I said. He picked himself up and slunk over to meet me. In less than a minute, I was finished and he bounded up to the deck, once again the ball of energy I’m used to. I heard him scamper above me while I rinsed off my hands and turned off the hose. I walked up the stairs, grinning, while he waited happily for me to towel him off in the sunlight.

As I rubbed him down, he pressed his head into my stomach and gave me a look of great adoration – almost as lovingly as he’d looked at those geese from the shore. I smiled back at this crazy mass of dog, this baby I’ve got.

And it was just another adventure of Maegan and the Bo-Dog.


  1. What is it with dogs and poop?! I got a new dog a couple months ago right after my black lab died...this little gal, a beagle/lab mix, thinks that frozen horse poop is a gift from God. If I'm ever wondering of her whereabouts, she can often be found in one of the piles of horse manure out back of the barn (dumped by the wheel barrow load, mind you...) chomping down a delicious snack. Of course, if she's not eating horse crap, just check the chicken pen/bunny room. ((SIGH)) And to think that I let her give me kisses when she comes back in the house!

  2. Ha ha Mandee, that's just crazy! Maybe you should just let her, um, kiss your feet!