Unexpected Dog Poop: Quick Clean-Up and Prevention Tips

There’s nothing like stepping in a pile of dog poop. In your living room.

I woke up Monday morning. Put on my glasses. Walked toward the hallway to take the herd out and feed them. I flipped on the light and spotted it: a massive pile of Cooper poop just inside my office door. He had gotten up at some point in the night, and Cooper – unlike his brothers – does not strive to wake me up for an emergency. Instead, he sneaks off, goes, then climbs back in bed.

We’re still testing ingredients, and the cottage cheese was totally my fault. I should’ve known. But, alas, I figured it was finally out of his system.

Then, Monday night while I was at class, this happened, and I suspect that Cooper ate the cat food.

Scratch that. I know Cooper ate the cat food.

Tuesday morning I awoke just after 5 to Cooper barfing on the rug in my bedroom. Cleaned it up, walked downstairs to find… another massive pile of Cooper poop, this time in the living room. Actually two piles, but I didn’t see the second pile until I had stepped in it while cleaning up the first. Damn dark carpets and bad eyesight.

So, I put them in the yard, cleaned it up, fed everyone (Cooper is on BLAND), then started the coffee. I walked up to my office, powered on my computer, and glanced at my email. I went downstairs to pour my first cup… and there was another pile of poop that was brand new. In the exact spot I had just cleaned. Of the three, that was the only one that made me mad because I was RIGHT THERE. He could’ve gone to the door. I would’ve heard him. But nooooo.

All day Tuesday was Poop Watch 2014. I had a huge stack of papers to grade, and it was impossible to concentrate. I kept him in my line of sight at all times. I took him out almost hourly. I needed to go to the post office and the grocery store, and all day long I kept telling myself: As soon as he poops, I’ll run those errands as fast as possible. Heck, I needed to shower, but after three inside poops, I wasn’t letting my guard down for a second. Not. One. Second.

By the time 11:45 pm rolled around and he still hadn’t pooped, I wanted to cry. I threw in the towel. I decided to gate him in my bedroom with me. Never has he had an accident in the bedroom (a den thing, maybe?) so I figured it was my best bet.

Wednesday woke up to him barfing.

But no poop!

{{Aside, we recently switched Newt’s food. Wednesday morning she decided to barf it all up. I guess she was showing solidarity for Cooper. But she kindly did it all over the bathroom floor, which is tile. For that, I am grateful.}}

He went outside before breakfast and again late afternoon. I had class – last one of the semester!!! – last night, and I was convinced I’d come home to poop. I gated them all in the living room and crossed my fingers. No poop! Yippee!

So, last night, I gated him in with me again.

I woke up to him running in frantic circles at 2 am. Rushed him out and he went. Back to bed. Same thing at 6:45. We had to get up anyway, but sheesh.

John’s been out of town since last Friday. He’s on his way back now. I think his punishment for abandoning me should be renting a steam cleaner and cleaning the rugs this weekend, don’t you?

I seriously feel like I can’t leave the house, but I still have to go to the post office and grocery store! The next time he poops outside…