It was a lovely Spring afternoon. The windows let in a sweet, cool breeze and the calming song of birds chirping. Mimi was over for a visit, with her lap dog, Dickens. Dickens is a lively 3 month old puppy, and professional instigator, as most puppies are. The children ran about the house playing with Dickens, who kept trying to chew up the various toys that were strewn about the floor.
My husband sat with his mother in the living room, helping her with her tablet. I took advantage of the children being preoccupied and stole away to the kitchen to catch up on dishes. The baby sat happily in her chair, babbling away at me. Then a horrible scream broke through the gaiety. I daresay that in the 8 years that I have known her, I have never heard that sound come out of my mother-in-law. Did Chewbacca, our Shih-Poo, finally eat Dickens? (Chewbacca is not fond of the little chap, I’m afraid.) I ran into the living room to investigate.
Upon entering, I saw Mimi frantically running after little Dickens, trying to get something out of his mouth. She finally caught him and wrenched his mouth open, allowing a piece of poop to fall onto the carpet.
Everyone instantly panicked, the children most of all.
Mimi picked up the offending matter with a bit of tissue and went to flush it down the toilet. Upon entering the bathroom, she was surprised to find another piece of poop on the floor!
Once we cleaned the floor and carpet, we began to tackle the big question: who’s poop was Mr. Dickens eating? We were quick to assume it to be Dickens’ poop, because he’s still being potty trained. But it was too big to have been his. Next to be blamed was Chewbacca, but he had been on the couch with my husband the whole time, trying to avoid Dickens. It was too small to have been from our Australian Shepherd, Brienne. That left the cat; but she’s never pooped outside of the box in her 9 years of life, and again, it was too big.
Of course, my next thought was Colonel Mustard, who probably used the candlestick to swat it from the powder room to the drawing room.
But wait–what if the culprit wasn’t an animal? What if the culprit was a human??
We had been so focused on the dog who had been caught with the poop, that we neglected to consider the kind-of-sort-of-potty-trained toddler (a toddler, by the way, who has a history of pooping on my carpet).
Calm as I could, I knelt down and asked the toddler, “Did you poop in your panties?”
“No”, she responded.
A quick check of her panties confirmed that she was telling the truth.
So where did the poop come from?
Then I remembered the poop that was found on the bathroom floor – – next to the Elmo potty.
I went back to the toddler and rephrased my question, “Did you go poo-poo in your potty without telling me?”
“Yes”, she said. “I go poo-poo in my Elmo potty all by myself and I flush it.”
I suspect that the toddler pooped in her Elmo potty and pushed the flusher. BUT – – the potty doesn’t really flush; it merely makes a flushing sound to make the child feel good about their potty achievement. Since none of the adults knew she had gone potty, the poop was left in the potty bowl. Dickens then snuck into the bathroom and helped himself to the feast that was left so conveniently at his level.
Another mystery solved.
Lesson learned–keep the bathroom door shut when having a play date with a puppy.