As I’ve mentioned a couple of times, we have a long-haired German Shepherd called Atlas. It’s a strong powerful and wise name which kind of sort of suits him.
When he was a puppy and hadn’t yet learned how to poo outside, he used to especially like doing it on the floor in the kitchen. We had tiles at the time so it was fine.
The other thing he used to especially like doing was to eat it immediately after plopping it out. It was nice and hot and meaty so sort of makes sense, but I don’t think I’ll try.
The first time I saw him doing it I was nearly sick, but after a few times it became normal.
Actually, no that is totally untrue, it was never normal and never ok, we did what we could to prevent it from happening but he was quick and often yummed it right up before we could get there. It probably happened a lot more than we realised as there was often no evidence.
Anyway, one day, Masha my wife timed it perfectly. She had two pieces of kitchen roll folded double in her hand and happened to be ready just as he prepared himself to drop.
She creeped up behind him and caught the plop, fresh, just as it came out, and quickly hid it!
A genius move it was, but Atlas was not impressed. Not only that but he didn’t understand what had happened, he happily turned around for his hot little snack and it wasn’t there! His face was priceless, total disappointment mixed with confusion.
He was only a puppy, but I could tell he was certain that something yummy had come out of his bum, and it was not there. Where was it? I don’t think he ever found out, so to him, it’s an eternal mystery.
