Apparently we have a dog with superior aiming skills. I have never been more impressed and infuriated at the same time as I was last night.

Every day when I come home I go directly to the bathroom and change in to a pair of khaki shorts that I keep on a chair in the bathroom. When I get ready in the morning I place them back on the chair. Last night was no different than any other day. I came home and changed. I ate dinner and afterwards a friend came over to talk about some problems he was having. We sat on the front porch for a very long time. About every ten minutes or so I would catch a wiff of some horrible smell. For some time I thought it was me. I know my personal hygeine is better than what would cause this, but it was the only think I could think of. Eventually I considered that I was smelling the leavings of some neighborhood dog in our front yard. After the conversation ended I went inside and fed Leah before my bedtime. I always empty my pockets on the self right outside our bathroom before bed as well. It’s a ritual. Wallet, keys, change, ink pen, and finally cell phone. And thats when I discovered it.

I’m guessing through the course of the day my shorts fell on the floor in the bathroom. At some point after that our very small dog decided she would leave me a present. She somehow managed to poop in my pocket. Not a giant cargo pocket, or those gaping front pockets that exist on pleated khakis. Just a normal pocket. This little dog pooped with such precision that it was able to fall into the bottom of my pocket. Now from here is simply speculation, but I feel like she has been observing my habits for some time now. She knew that the left pocket is the one where I keep my cell phone. The one thing that goes in my pocket that has any real value to it that is difficult to replace. With that forethought she seized the moment to get the largest impact from the smallest action she could. She chose my left pocket. Luckily I have a plastic protector case on the outside of my cell phone. And it did it’s job. If one can expect the job of a cell phone cover is to protect it from poop in your pocket. I was able to remove the cover and dispose of the waste. After about fifteen clorox wipes for the phone itself (which never really came into contact with the feces) all is well. However I did have the strong urge to smother a small black daschund where she lay. This morning when I got up she looked at me with what I could only perceive to be a smile. I can honestly believe that she intentionally precision pooped in my pocket, more specifically my left pocket.