Her nose is to the ground. She’s sniffing and sniffing and sniffing. We’ve reached the poop corner. If she’s gotta go, here she will go.
The pee count is at four. Billy likes a post dog walk bodily function report when we get home.
I step onto the grass and let the leash out. I watch as she makes her way around letting her nose lead. She’s just been groomed so her fresh scent lingers as she circles. There’s not head whipping so I stand and wait. Her nose is still to the ground. She’s sniffing and sniffing and sniffing. She stops abruptly. She hears something. She looks. Nothing. Back to sniffing. I stand and wait. Thankful for the balmy March temperature. Suddenly, I see the her head whip to the left. Sniff. Whip to the right. To the left. Sniff, sniff, sniff. Whip to the right. Whip. Whip. Whip. “This is quite the poop dance.” I whisper so as not to disturb her work. The whipping stops. She’s back to straight line sniffing, but only for a second. In no time, she’s back to whip sniffing. Left. Right. Left. Left. I watch as her hind legs come forward and she assumes the position and produces the poop she’s been sniffing out.
“How’d she do?” Billy asks while getting his after work Maci fix.
I give the nightly bodily function report, “Four pees, a grand poop dance, and yes, a poop.”