Well here's a new one. I fell yesterday because I stepped on a dog turd. Since it was frozen solid, it was like stepping on a frozen hotdog and whoops, my foot went out from under me and I landed right on my behind. I had to laugh (once I finished cursing), what could be more fitting to happen to me. Had it been summer, I'd have squished that thing into my shoe soles. I fall every winter at least once, so I'm hoping that was it.
Poor Sara has had to cope with doing her business on the piece of patio that is cleared of snow. It's not a very big piece, but I kind of like it as it makes cleanup less of a treasure hunt. The turds usually freeze onto the wood and I have to kick them to dislodge them so I can pick them up. It's actually better than when it's warm and you've got to deal with the soft ones.
Sara did one of her vile dog acts the other day too. I took her out for a quick walk around the block and she snarfled something into her mouth. I didn't see what it was and so I did my usual, "What is that? Give me that? What do you have in your mouth?" I grabbed whatever it was with my gloved hand, wrenched it from her maw and studied it in my gloved hand. It took a good 5 seconds to understand that I was holding a frozen dog turd. Gah! Flung that thing like the sissy I am. And then the admonishment, "No kisses for a week. Bad dog!"