Red flags


I spent all morning trying to come up with something interesting to blog about. I could talk about baby kicks and baby hiccups (which I think I finally felt last night), or I could tell you about our day trip to Jacksonville tomorrow to look for nursery furniture. But all I could really come up with was dog poop.

Having 3 dogs, I pretty much have to do poop patrol at least once if not twice a week. Sure, they are smaller- medium sized dogs but that stuff adds up. I keep a plastic beer drinking cup – Solo cup – and a trowel out in a planter and go around – in specific shoes – searching for piles o’ crap. Sometimes, if it’s had a bit to start decomposing, its color becomes very close to that of the leaves that take up the majority of our poorly landscaped backyard. So finding said piles is not necessarily easy.

Unless its a pile of Zoey’s poo.

Zoey cannot and will not stop shredding the fleece blanket that pads her crate. I don’t get it. It shouldn’t be fun to rip up and eat something so fluffy and soft. And so tasteless. And yet, she does this constantly. Henceforth, even if the poo has eroded, her former pile is marked by little 2-3 inch strips of red fabric.

Thanks for the head’s up, Zoey-girl!

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