Devin asked me to re-post a story I wrote a few years ago. It’s a true story about getting shit faced. See below (it originally aired on MySpace in 2006)

Warning: This Blog Contains Foul Incontinence

They say pimpin’ ain’t easy. Neither is dog-sitting a seventy pound lab with “issues.”

See, Therese (twin sis) came to visit me this past summer. She brought along her lovable, easy-going, friendly yellow lab named Dullard. Therese rescued Dullard from a doggie fostering agency in Texas. He’s somewhere between 3 and 5 years old – and although he can’t speak of his past experiences as a stray, his issues certainly paint a pretty good picture. A picture clear enough that Therese named him Dullard within a few hours of his adoption.

Therese’s visit to North Carolina had one condition: she had to go to Washington D.C. for a week to take care of business, but she would be back to hang out with me for a week after that. She asked that I watch Dullard while she was in D.C. Seemed like no big deal to me, after all, I already have a dog, Trooper.

Fur cousins: my dog Trooper and Therese's dog Dullard in 2006

Before Therese pulled out of my driveway, she warned me, “oh, Dullard is afraid of certain lights, cell phones, strange noises, lightning, thunder, vacuums, laser levelers, other dogs, pooping in strange places, most people, food…”

Day 1 went by pretty well. I was concerned, though, because Dullard hadn’t eaten or pooped since Therese had left. I would walk him on his long leash around the neighborhood but we weren’t having much luck. Therese warned me that he would run away. She also threatened to kill me if I lost her dog.

By day 2, during one of our walks, Dullard started to squat. I was so excited that he was finally defecating that I didn’t realize my strategic placement about 10 feet behind him. Well, without warning, after his poop was complete, he started revving his hind legs like he was about to start a motorcycle. Trooper does this, too, however she’s about 50 lbs. lighter and she’s much more dainty about it. What FELT like MUD flew into my face – right in the TEAR DUCT of my left eye.

Immediately the smell hit me.

Dog shit had just flown onto my face.

Well, let me tell you, I’m a gagger. I gag if I see someone else gag.
Dog shit on my face brought my experience in gagging to a whole new level. I basically dry-heaved and violently gagged the entire way back into the house. I was blind in one eye, had a dog freaking out by my strange reaction on a leash, and doubled-over heaving the entire way back to the closest bathroom. I ran to the vanity, and gagged some more at the site of dog shit on my face. I had to take my fingernails and scrape the dog shit off my eye. By then my stomach hurt from the dry heaving and I was washing my face like a desperate teenager with acne.

Day 3. Dullard missed his trusted owner so much that he got a little condition I’m familiar with: IBS. Dullard started breathing heavy this afternoon and went into my kitchen. Then, like a waterfall of pudding, Dullard shit a loose turd stream right by my dining room table. I got some paper towels and dry-heaved my way through the cleanup process. Actually, Nate cleaned it up, but I did all of the gagging while I watched in support.

Day 4. Dullard peed out of his butt again. All over my bathroom floor.

Day 5. Dullard’s intestines weren’t settled yet. This time he shit a pool of chocolate milk by my back door. But this time he slid his tail through it before I could get him outside. Remember, I couldn’t just open the door and let him go – so I had to get him on a leash first. Before I could get him hooked up, Dullard managed to run around the kitchen hitting the walls – leaving Picasso style paint strokes of dog shit all over. The poop tail swiped against me, too and once again I had Dullard shit on me – this time on my back and shoulder.

When Therese finally returned on Day 6 we were all incredibly happy to see her. Dullard jumped in her arms and was a happy, healthy, solid-pooping pooch the entire week she was at my house with him (go figure).

In conclusion, dog-sitting for a rescue animal with issues ain’t easy. But, I’ll also admit that I’d do anything for Therese – so if cleaning up her dog’s shit warrants a visit from her, I would deal with it all over again.

Dullard in 2009: Therese taught him how to balance a pancake on his head