A Reminiscent Saturday Giggle

I've been reminiscing about our Wendy Girl and reading old posts this afternoon. Since it's so danged HOT today, and since I had to get up so danged early this morning to make it to the change of command at Belle Chasse in time (who holds a change of command at 0900 on a Saturday?!?!), I think I'll indulge myself with a little re-post from October of last year. It made me laugh, so maybe it will tickle your funny bone, too.

Kinda Like What the Mainstream Media Spoon-feeds Us


I overheated my brain over the weekend, so today's post will be fluffish. Plus, my future son-in-law just cracks up every time he sees this box -- he even took a picture of it once so he can crack himself up at home -- so I thought the photo on the box might crack up other folks, too.

We have a geriatric beagle who, despite her age, is constantly on the hunt. The hunt is for food. "Food," in Wendy Whiner's mind, needn't necessarily be edible, and she'll take it where she can get it.

Hence, she is known, for polite discourse, as a poop eater. That is not precisely the phrase my husband uses, but you get the general idea.

Yes, you read that correctly -- she eats poop. Often. With gusto.

Since the consumption of one's own -- or someone else's -- poop can be detrimental to one's health (and, observing the process can be detrimental to the observer's gag reflex), the practice is one that is to be discouraged. "Scooping" is not the answer -- a wily beagle can always find a way to beat the scoop.

So, the product pictured above has been stocked in our house for some time and used according to package instructions to try to break Wendy of her between-meal snacking habits. It claims to "help stop your ... dog from consuming its own feces." How is this miracle product supposed to work, you may wonder? Once consumed, it moves through the digestive system and discourages the dog from wanting to re-eat the by-product because it makes the poop taste bad.

Yep -- it makes the poop taste bad.

Foolish me -- it never occurred to me that poop could taste any way but bad.

For all the unpleasant imagery that it evokes, does the product work well?

Not when one lives with a determined beagle who has a poop monkey on her back.

I'm with the chihuahua on the box, however. Is that a great face, or what! Kinda the same expression I had on my face last week when the Nobel Peace Prize was announced.

Aw, come on -- you knew I had to get in at least one political dig, didn't you? And the dig is pretty much about the same subject matter as the rest of this post -- the knee-jerk reaction to both is "Ewwwww."