An Open Letter to Our Dog

by Telling Dad on March 7, 2011

Dear Jackson,

That was a $1200 genuine imitation Persian rug you decided to use as a fecal canvas. Having spent the entire evening at a Landscaping Show where the air was thick with the delightful aroma of fresh flowers, returning home to your stanky mud puddles provided quite the olfactory contrast.

I won’t even bother to ask why you chose the rug as your target of choice rather than the dozens of square feet of available bare tile and hardwood flooring because you’ll just stare at me wondering why I’m staring back at you talking gibberish.

Based on the stench and consistency, I can only assume you got sick eating one of two things:

1. Something dead.

2. Something deader.

Remember the time you and Riley escaped the backyard and feasted on dead skunk carcass in the middle of Route 41? Do you remember the bloating, the noxious fumes, and the expelled gray matter you endured the rest of the week?

No? Of course not. Because you possess the long-term memory of an amnesiac and the short-term memory of a fruit fly. I know this because while I was cleaning up your various liquid deposits, you stared at me with a “whoa, what happened here?” look on your face.

Well, I’ll tell you what happened here. Because you felt it necessary to shizzle where you lay, we had to push your slimy soggy doggy stench into harvestable pools and then soak our rug in industrial carpet cleaning chemicals in a bold attempt to salvage it.

A spritz of Febreeze on the tissues made it tolerable.

Oh, and before you ask, the reason we barricaded you in the kitchen was because we were hoping to restrict any further mess to our tile, which is far easier to clean. While not as convenient for a dog hellbent on destroying as much property as possible in its lifetime, it is infinitely more convenient for the witless providers who put forth the time, money, and effort to care for you.

It’s not like the barricade did any good because, as you probably don’t remember, you rammed your way through the logjam of chairs and boxes in order to spritz our rug like a sickened Grizzly bear for a repeat performance.

It was wonderful to be awakened at 6:30am on a Saturday with, “Dad, do you remember what Jackson did last night on the carpet? Well, he did even more this time.”

Dispeling any notion that Jackson is a small dog. Yes, he's a love, but that doesn't take away from his utter foulness.

Just as we can’t figure out why the cats prefer to ralph on carpeting, shoes, and unwashable fabrics, we can’t understand why you felt it necessary to emblazon our rug with several overnight rounds of diarrhea. Do you have a problem with tile? Is it unworthy of a squat? Not lavish enough for what escapes your rear end?

I can deal with a scoopable pile of well-formed uh-oh’s. What I can’t deal with is a complete and total blowout that disperses liquefied nastiness all around our dining room. You don’t crap where you eat, so why do it where we eat? Is this some sort of message? Some sick twisted strategy for change that you dreamed up while unabashedly licking your nuggets in front of the children?

Cleaning something so foul-smelling that had the consistency of rotted swill was bad enough. But discovering cast-off splatter on the curtains and walls like some CSI forensics team was downright horrible. The next time you’re about to experience a rectal explosion, I’d appreciate it if you’d rear up to the cats. At least they are capable of cleaning themselves. Something our rugs can’t do.

You were already on thin ice after chewing our new dining room chairs into splinters and then puking what looked like scrambled egg batter on yet another ex-rug. So consider yourself warned. The next time? You’ll be the new rug.

Sincerely,

The Hand that Feeds You

P.S. I also wanted to thank you for the log pile of cat turds we found on the upstairs landing last night. Apparently, your repeated actions of crapping on our rugs without consequence gave these felines the impression that this was the new household policy.

Perhaps I’ll erect a sign on our front door in your honor.

It’ll read: “Welcome to our home. Crap where ye may!”

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Mary March 7, 2011 at 3:48 pm

Oh. No. Hilarious as usual but I am sure that isn’t the response that makes you feel better. Just to make you feel a little better, my cat has the awful habit of doing this on the tile and it is still awful. I am in the process of finding her a new home due to my husband’s incessant, wordless pleading.

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karen March 8, 2011 at 6:04 am

My condolences. I have a puking cat who manages to do it on the upholstered furniture rather than the laminate floor.

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Michael Scott March 8, 2011 at 6:30 am

What a delightful story, with all deference to the ordeal itself of course. I have reproduced this in its entirety, with attribution of course, over at my place. I will now be following you and I hope you reciprocate.

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Candace March 8, 2011 at 11:04 am

This makes me so glad i don’t have any pets. I would probably have to give a dog like that some doggy Ritalin because no way am I cleaning up dog diarrhea from a dog that is healthy. Maybe your dog wants gourmet steak and since you won’t appease him he prefers to eat dead things? Either way that is gross and vet worthy.

The cats? Yeesh. Its probably not humane to kick them down the stairs is it? Totally kidding I would never kick a cat down the stairs.

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Meg March 8, 2011 at 1:41 pm

He he…i would normally say, could be worse, but honestly, I’ll take the cat puking up a hairball on my bed in the middle of the night vs doggy liquified nasty…remind me again why we have pets? oh right, cuddley and cute

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Kim March 8, 2011 at 8:48 pm

Hilarious. And although we loved our dog completely (he passed away three years ago) I don’t miss this kind of thing at all. He looks like a big sweetheart though. I read a few of your posts. I like your humour.

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Scary Mommy March 8, 2011 at 8:49 pm

I’m totally laughing, because we have SO been there. Damn dogs. But, look at that face!!! How can you stay mad?

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karen March 8, 2011 at 11:47 pm

came here by way of your comment to our beloved aunt becky and her corn dawgs, and I can tell ya, I’m not sorry I did. Wow.

I’m lying on my couch under a tonne of blankets, nursing a wicked twingy back and a brutal cough — already NOT a good mix. When I read this. I tell ya, I laughed so hard I cried. Sorry about that but I did.

I hope your dog feels better soon. The carpets? Well … that’ll teach you not to have ‘em.

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Melinda March 9, 2011 at 11:02 am

I’m laughing and feeling sympathy all at once. I secretly hate our dog that I was so kindly awarded custody of. I’ve given him ample opportunities to run away but he won’t. I had to cut out dried you know what from the fur of you know where for the 2nd time last week, and I find that ranks in the worst thing I’ve ever had to do. I applaud your cleaning efforts as I would have thrown it away rather than attempt. I hope your dog reads this and sends his apologizes formally. :)

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RebeccaLK March 10, 2011 at 3:06 am

I love this blog. Kids seem to bring the best and worst out of us. The family pets are critics of the living room circus!

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Rob March 10, 2011 at 6:47 am

My first question is who other then you owns a $1200 genuine imitation Persian rug? LOL. This why we don’t have pets. Dealing with kids and there bathroom issues is enough. Shae is 3 and still needs someone to wipe her butt after she craps so no way and I going to clean up dog crap from my $20 Genuine Wal-Mart rug. Also, love the TP or whatever else is in your nose.

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Jennifer March 16, 2011 at 9:21 pm

I couldn’t read this aloud to my husband without stopping several times to catch my breath because I was laughing so hard. My husband knows somewhat of your pain as he’s in charge of cat crap duty and has shampooed the couches more than he’d like to remember when the cats decide the litter box is not worthy of their pee.

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Greg - Telling Dad March 16, 2011 at 9:26 pm

Awesome! I love to know when people laugh. Keeps me going. :) And I am right there with your husband…our cats are the same way. We tried a bigger litterbox but that wasn’t good enough either. Cats…as we’ve now learned…cannot be pleased.

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Annie @ Mama Dweeb April 22, 2011 at 8:19 am

I couldn’t stop laughing. I had tears coming out of my eyes! And I was reading it on my desktop while my husband was reading it on the iPad. We were both reading our favorite parts and laughing! His? “Dad he did even more this time”

Mine? “Crap where ye may!”

Coming from someone that has a dog as large as yours, I am glad ours has not done this yet. Oh but he did ruin an entire toy room with his pee when I was about to have a new baby. Poor puppy got jealous that I wasn’t paying attention to him.

Dogs.
Sheesh

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Franklin July 14, 2011 at 6:44 am

Something dead, something deader! Awesome!! I like

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Carrie July 29, 2011 at 9:39 pm

Oh lord, can we relate! We wonder why the pooch must choose textiles to defecate on rather than the tile or laminate that cover 80% of the floors in this house??!!! He’ll walk across said scary laminate floor that he normal tip toes across just so he can make it to the living room to leave a liquid pancake for us. So, fantastic. How I can hear my husband say (who was a cat person until he met me), “We will never be able to have nice things or carpet while we have this dog, I just don’t know what to do?!!” He gets so exasperated, I think he’s going to leave the gate open next time he let’s them out. As funny and sad as it is, it is nice to hear other’s suffer just like us.

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Brandi August 11, 2011 at 3:09 pm

I’ve only recently discovered your blog and enjoy it immensely…so I’ve been reading some of the archived stuff. I sat in my chair laughing my butt off at this post yesterday while my boston terrier sat at my feet and stared at me quizzically. This morning she hopped up on the bed and pranced impatiently until I pulled the covers back to let her in. She then promptly threw up all over the front of my shirt (and only managed to get a tiny bit on the sheets). Somehow I think this was pay back for laughing my rear end off at another dog’s expense yesterday…

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Kirsten September 8, 2011 at 10:16 pm

Oh have we been there! You have to stay armed with lots of paper towels, gloves, rug cleaner, and room deodorizer. Stay strong!

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Cathy September 26, 2011 at 5:19 pm

I’m coming late to this party, but I’m laughing so hard I’m crying. Considering I’m on the interstate in an epic flood (not driving) after three weeks away from home, well done, you.

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Lala September 26, 2011 at 6:16 pm

OMG I’m dying over here!

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karen September 26, 2011 at 9:40 pm

I’m back to re-comment. I would like to say I am surprised that this post still gets comments — getting reminders of having read this story via the much later readers is like having Christmas come unexpectedly and random throughout the year.

This story has legs, man. You should be proud.

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hogsatemysister October 3, 2011 at 1:34 am

OK, it’s on.

My Moosedawg against Jackson.

No rules.

Winner takes all.

May the best pooper win.

P.S. Extra points for maggots.

P.S.P.S. Ack.

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Brandina October 10, 2011 at 9:30 am

This is one of the main reasons I won’t own a dog. I have two cats who are, lucky me, very clean for the most part. Hairballs or messes outside of their litter box are rare for the most part. But if I had to clean up after the much larger messes of a dog, well, I can’t handle that.

I keep saying, time and again, that after the cats I have are gone I’m going to be done with pets completely. I’ve been saying this for many years, but for some reason, the loss of one just makes me want another.

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Patricia Calef December 22, 2011 at 6:36 pm

OMG. I love this site. Just discovered it. I have two dogs and seven cats so I am very familiar with cleaning rugs, rugs, and more rugs. Febreeze no longer does the trick. I buy What Oder. (they advertised it on our local news channel and it actually works.) I would rather clean up dog doo then cat pee. I have an older cat who has gotten territorial over me and thinks he needs to pee on my side of the bed. Yuck.

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Barbara Hopkins January 13, 2012 at 7:04 pm

I don’t know how I ended up here except that it was a link from something else I read today. My questions are: Did Jackson continue doing this for much longer? If yes, did you take him to the vet? And, more importantly, why isn’t your dog neutered? Just sayin’.

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Telling Dad January 13, 2012 at 7:05 pm

I don’t see the relevance, but Jackson is neutered. What gave you the impression otherwise?

And no, it didn’t continue, it passed. Turned out to be a random surprise.

Anita May 11, 2012 at 5:40 pm

Thank you so much for the site. Absolutely hilarious! I’m on the internet at the library, and the laugh-out-loud moments are glorious.

Just had a thought about the preference for textured surfaces (Carpet! Always the carpet!) as opposed to smooth (blessed tile or lino, etc). I’ll bet their little paws can’t get a grip on the smooth surfaces. Hard to brace yourself for a stressful peristaltic power-move when you can’t get traction.
Maybe that’s one of many reasons we “hug the porcelain”.

Steady as she goes. . .

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Georgia June 23, 2012 at 2:41 pm

Just read this blog and thank you! I haven’t lol so much in a long time. My dog thinks it is his job to bring the cat’s “clumped litter” to the kitchen to show me “how bad that cat is” … oh if only they could understand when we talk to them.

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Cindi @Frugal New England Kitchen January 3, 2013 at 7:16 pm

Wishing you the best of luck! We are now dog-free. Our Black Lab was the greatest however when our daughter boomeranged back home, she brought her not-housebroken beagle with her. Beagles are notorious. He was banned and put up for adoption.

Good grief! And here all along I thought it was just our cat who preferred the carpet all these 16 years!

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