dootie

Of course, I committed plenty of missteps as I slowly blended into the natural landscape of Sunday mornings at the shelter, especially before I understood the nuances of the reasonably strong hose, like the time I went to hose poop out of a water bowl and ended up with a face full of dootie. I did the quick look-around to make sure no one, besides the dogs, had witnessed the event and was, for once, thankful so few county kennel workers were on duty. Then there was the time I tried to unclog a drain and ended up with, once again, dootie on my face. And the time I went to take a skinny dog out of shit-filled kennel. I mean, it was like shit soup an inch deep all over the cement floor. I leaned over and began saying something like, “What a mess!” That was when the little dog lifted one of her front paws and somehow placed it squarely in my open mouth.