Crappy Conversations

So I have been getting  lot of complaints recently from my adoring fans (*cough-my-aunt-and-one-cousin-coughcough*) that I haven’t been updating the blog weekly. I would update weekly, but I typically like to wait for divine inspiration instead of making hour-by-hour journal entries and sometimes the Divine is too busy to waste time helping me come up with new and inspiring insights on dog crap.

But apparently the good Lord saves some time for me on Saturdays (this is the day that  I always have good ideas about anything), usually-ironically enough-while I am picking up dog crap. This is even true when I am not living in with 29 sled dogs; when I am at home, my thinking cap seems to only work when I am mowing the lawn or sweeping the patio. My brain is a little glichy and strange that way.

Talking about gliches…where were we?

Oh yes, God telling me what to write about while I was picking up dog poop on a Saturday. There I was. slipping and sliding around the kennel with a shovel and hoe, trying to avoid the double whammy that would have been breaking my hip while slipping on icy dog poop, when the divine light bulb was switched on.

“Write about dog crap,” it whispered in my ear.

“Really? Again?” I argued.

“Are you arguing with the Divine?”

“Are you sure you are the Divine? I think this voice might just be the poop talking.”

“…what would you get such a crappy idea?”

“Because I don’t think when the Lord whispers in peoples’ ears His breath has such a fecious odor”

“Fecious? You made that word up.”

“I don’t like to swear in my blog, so I am running out of real words to say and describe “poop” “

“I really make a great blog subject, no?”

“Yeah, and if I keep listening to you, I am going to have to change the title of this blog to Dog Crap and Other Tales.”

“ You could spell ‘tales’ like ‘tails’ to be extra witty.”

“Oh I like tha--STOP! I will take no more of your poopy advice! This is getting ridiculous.”

“Wait! But what about poop quotas?”

“Excuse me?”

“You could write about how the dogs have quotas for how much poop they allow in their areas. People think dogs can’t count, but they certainly can count the poop in their spots and they wait until just after you pick some up and then they poop some more to fill the quota.”

“Crap quotas…I like that too---NO! This has to end now. I’m freaking myself out talking to poop for so long.”

“But wait, there is more! What about ‘shit chipping’ and ‘shit slipping’??”

“Hey! I told you that we—that I don’t swear in my blog!”

“Sorry, I really have shit for ears.”

“STOP! We’re finished.”

“So, you really aren’t going to tell your one and one cousin who actually read this blog about s*** chipping and slipping? About how it is a big game with the frozen poops to chip them perfectly into the shovel with the hoe? About how it really is a science to tap just the right poopy corner with a precise amount of force and exact angle? About how the game changes to s*** slipping when the bad weather turns the whole kennel into ice and you slide around like a curling disc while trying to pick up the doodoo?”

“Did you really just mock me about my followers?”

“Is that what they call extended family these days?”

“Shut up.”

“Your own mother didn’t even seem to care that you haven’t updated in a month.”

“Now you’re really being a jerk.”

“Your mom was probably too busy reading my blog to read yours.”

“You need to go now.”

For the honor and glory.