I forgot to scoop the poop

First of all, I want to say thank you thank you thank you for all your sweet comments on Monday's post. I'm glad to know I'm not the only one who loses her blogging mojo every once in a while and I'm even more glad to have so much support from you beautiful blogging ladies.

I've already failed at meeting my blogging goal for the week but it's okay. Because I'm pretty pumped up about today's post. And after reading the title, you should be too. Trust me.

So I've mention once or twice ten trillion times that I'm an obsessive puppy mama of two. And trust me, there is never a dull moment with these two.

Clearly they're best friends.

My doxie Willow is only two so we're still going through a bit of a "puppy phase". As in, we're still working on potty training. Shoot me now, I know. She never has a pee-pee accident in the house. Ever. She figured that one out within the first few weeks of being home. But going number 2 has become an issue. A huge issue. 

The first house we lived in had an awful back yard. It was big and fenced in and looked pretty enough. But the second it rained, it became a muddy swamp for daysssss. And Willow, being only inches off the ground, hated going outside in it. Who could blame her. She'd get far enough to tinkle, but would never spend enough time to muster up a good BM.

Our new yard is much better and both dogs love spending as much time out there as possible. 

We thought Willow's potty problems would be solved thanks to the nice backyard and they definitely improved. Except now she's constipated all the time. Sometimes she'll go days without going, inside or out. And when she does, you can tell it's quite the ordeal. 

She is currently eating organic, holistic dog food mixed with pureed pumpkin. And things are somewhat improving. 

Apparently, exercise gets things moving too. I took Willow for a run yesterday. And as usual, when I take my dogs for a run I don't take a poop-scoop bag. Why, I'm not sure. I just don't ever think about it until it's too late. 

Inevitably, one of my dogs (usually Roxy) poops in someone else's yard every time we go. Sorry neighbors. Fortunately we only go for runs about once every week so I don't feel too bad about the extra fertilizer. 

Well last night it was just me and Willow. We're trucking along, sweating our tooshies off. Willow has the hugest grin on her face (she LOVES running, which makes one of us) when all of a sudden I come to a halting stop, nearly tripping over my eight pound baby (who neverrrrrr poops) doing this in the middle of the street. 

I was proud of her for going - outside nonetheless, but obviously couldn't let anyone hear me proud of my dog for pooping in the middle of the road. And since I didn't have a bag, it had to stay there. We quickly scurried off, pretending it hadn't happened.

Reason #495874098 why running is not my most favoritest thing. 

Hugs,