Scat!

You know, they don't allow you to type in your own mood.  There are some that they have missed.  I would like the freedom to tell you more specifically what kind of mood I am in.

And why do the ask what music you are hearing? And why don't they ask about the experiences of your other senses?

This entry is scatological.  I'm not talking about Ella Fitzgerald scat.  I am talking about the by-products of the world's processes of digestion and elimination.

That's right.  I am addressing POOP.  I am going where taste and sense have not allowed you to go!

A good poop feels good.  We tend to lighten our load when we are upset, frightened.

I am a professional poop picker-upper.  I get fairly decent money to walk dogs, which includes the clean-up.  I am not afraid of poop.

My more intimate relationship with poop began when I was caring for my mom.  I had to wipe her derriere.  I had to do many things.  It's bad enough that we have to deal with our own stuff....

So anyway, the stuff became less intimidating.  Mom died and I thought I was done with having to manage the stuff.  Then I got a job at an animal hospital.  What was I thinking?

So one day a few years ago I finished walking the dogs.  I wrapped up the sack containing their spoor and tossed it away.  Then I spied a lost poo on the ground.  Damned if I was gonna waste a new bag on a single poo, I shoveled it up and prepared to launch it over the fence and into the woods.

Angle.  Trajectory. Swish.  Nothing. "Pllap." "Huh?"

The poo had fooled me and was sticking to the hospital wall.  Ah hahahahahaaaa  It still kills me.  I bet this isn't happening to anyone else right now anywhere in the world, I thought. (I hosed it down.)

So no, I am not afraid of poo, or bugs, or lizards or most snakes.  I'd rather take my chances in the woods than in the big city.  Men are more dangerous than any dog.

They call me at the library when something gets in the back door.  I'm the one that saw to the removal of black widow spiders in the bookdrop.

My live capture of a dragonfly in the county commission chambers during FEMA work made Jennifer G. laugh. (It really is sad that she is not my friend.  She got my jokes.)

We all deal with waste products, sex, taxes and God.  What's the big deal?

2:18 p.m.

I started thinking that entry is tasteless.  You ought to delete it. But then I thought, "No, you need to augment it!" Then I laughed maniacally.

Zen Poo

I have a touch of the colitis.  At work, I have a book in my cabinet, "Zen Flesh, Zen Bones."  When I have a serious thought, I take this book to the "thinking place."  It distracts me.  It's a good thing.   Try it sometime, reading on the pot....

 

The library has a book by Japanese author Taro Gomi in the children's section.  It's called "Everyone Poops."

No lie!  It's a classic.

I also see in the catalog that there's one by him called "TOOT!"  LOL LOL