As a dog walker, I have experienced many canine-related situations.
I have been pulled along the grass on my belly by two Siberian huskies.
Been terrorized out of a house by a demonic chihuahua.
Forced to improvise a hazmat suit to clean out a six-cat kitty litter box
But here’s a new one.
Today I have to give a dog’s butt a bath.
I could tell Rex (not his real name, for obvious reasons) was in trouble yesterday after he pooped and then continued to assume poop position. I thought he just had a, well, you know, a hanger-on. I found a stick, but there was nothing to fish out (I know this is getting to be TMI, but please continue).
Later, in the house, I noticed rather noisomely that his south end smelled … bad. I thought ‘This will correct itself by morning.’ But today I saw his futile attempt to poop again, and thought, man, Rex is plugged up. I should mention that Rex is a very shaggy terrier. I tried the stick test and discovered his butt was matted shut and hard, like a vault door. I immediately had thoughts of Rex exploding before his mom could get home the next day.
I messaged her, describing the situation as delicately as possible.
“Oh, he’s got poop-butt!” she observed. So this was apparently nothing out of the ordinary. She suggested I put Rex in the sink and clean him up.
Now, I’ve got a 30-minute visit booked, for one thing. I will give cats insulin shots, but giving a dog a bath is an extra service I don’t even offer. Then, too, little me would have to hoist the dog into a high sink, and finally try to get through the cemented poop. All this time, I am somewhat ashamed to say, I would be dry-heaving (I’m sorry, dog and cat poop doesn’t smell like flowers, no matter how much of a pro I am at picking up their droppings).
There was only one thing to do.
I called my husband.
Enlisted, I mean. He calmly and without malice said he would help. Also said he would take the back end while I held onto the front.
Did I mention this man is a saint?
So we’ll be off soon for our afternoon visit to Rex. I’ll let you know how it goes. Hopefully I’ll remember the latex gloves.
UPDATE:
We did it. Well, my husband, Paul, did it. We used the bathtub, sat Rex’s butt down in some warm water, and Paul dug right in, so to speak. I, as promised, held the front end, and only a couple of times felt like hurling.
Rex behaved perfectly throughout the violation, seeming to enjoy the warm water and the attention. I can’t imagine many dogs would be so understanding. The mission was accomplished in 10 minutes, and Rex was visibly happier immediately. He had the zoomies and we cheered.
We never did find any latex gloves to use.
Paul is truly the hero of this story. Another bit of gold in his halo.
