
This is Napoleon.
A few days ago Napoleon stole a can of peanuts and ate
almost the whole thing, and those peanuts are still in my life, and in fact may have caused me to expose myself to my neighbors. Possibly even the neighbor
from the standoff/shootout and I don’t want to have to deal with him looking at
me like I’m the crazy one.
The
reason the peanuts are still around is because I didn’t bother to pick up the
peanut poop because I was busy taking pictures of it, and also I’ve been lax
about taking a bag when we’re just going out to the dog run behind the
building, because maintenance scoops it. But only every so often.
So he
ate the peanuts, he pooped the peanuts, and the peanuts are still there; and
now he wants to eat the peanuts again. He tried to eat the peanuts last night
and I managed to shoo him away, luckily he didn’t realize there were peanuts
until everyone was pretty much ready to go. But this morning, he remembered. He
was on a mission to re-eat the peanuts. But I am smarter than my poopy-peanut
eating dog (I thought), and I took a bag to scoop those piles up out of eating
range.
So he’s
trying to eat the peanuts and I’m trying to bag them up, but it’s not working
that well because they’re not a cohesive unit like most piles of poop, and they’re
crumbling apart into individual peanuts every time I grab a pile. This is bad
for me, but Napoleon is pleased because even when I get to a pile first, there
are inevitably stray peanuts left for him. Now I’m wondering if his plan is to
keep eating the peanuts forever, and I’ll forever be trying to snatch the
peanuts before he can eat them, but he’ll just keep pooping more and eating
those, and this is not how I want to spend eternity.
Also, I’m not wearing any underwear because I haven’t
showered yet, and I just threw something on to walk the dogs, but it was the
wrong something. It’s a little dress that’s really a cover up which looks
perfectly respectable (seriously, it comes to my knees), as long as I don’t have
to squat down, or bend over without my underwear. Unfortunately, I am doing all
of these things quickly and repeatedly, and once I actually do a bit of a duck
walk because there are two piles very close together and I’m all caught up in the
heat of the moment and yes I am victorious, unless you consider shit for
dignity a poor trade.
So I’m racing from pile to pile, almost always
a step behind (which is annoying because Napoleon’s legs are like three inches
long), and I really want to get the peanuts before he eats any more of them,
because they’re poop peanuts now. I mean they look fine. They look exactly like
they did before they went in the first time, except now with a little something
extra, like maybe they’re wrapped in nougat, but it’s not nougat. It occurs to
me to try to bury the piles, but as soon as I’ve buried one (with my foot
because of course I’m not prepared with a shovel), I realize that if I bury the
poop peanuts they will never be picked up and I will only be creating a fun and
rewarding version of hide and seek for Napoleon. Thankfully, the other dogs
have no interest in the peanuts.
Maybe this is all karma, from not picking up
the poop in the first place. Maybe it was all nice and gooey and sticking together
when it first came out and I would have picked it up in one fell, panty-wearing
swoop without exposing anything to the neighbors. I get maybe half the peanuts
before giving up, collecting the dogs (Napoleon has to practically be dragged
away from the goodies), and slinking back upstairs. So yeah, it’s possible that
Napoleon will be eating the same can of peanuts forever. It’s possible that my
neighbors have a new familiarity with my junk. (Is it still junk if it’s not a
penis?) I don’t know. However, it’s also possible that right now some other dog
is down there discovering the peanuts, and that those damned indestructible
legumes are on their way into someone else’s life.
Here’s the picture in case you’re
wondering if they really still look intact.
I tweeted this picture when it
first happened because I thought that was going to be the end of it, and it was
pointed out to me at the time that this was kind of gross. Implied rather,
because my friend who brought up the gross factor probably didn’t want to hurt
my feelings by pointing out how deranged I am to be posting pictures of my dog’s
poop, although it’s barely poop it’s mostly just gently used peanuts. Which is
ok.
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