Oh, the joys of puppies. On one hand, this li'l guy is just a joy, always happy. Jumps, wiggles and woofs with joy to see ya. On the other hand, my oldest son may need years of therapy.
Pikachu left a deposit on my son's floor. My son stepped in it. The poo was still... fresh. Squishy. And, as only a hormonal pre-teen can, my son carried on like this is the Biggest Tragedy Known to Mankind. Oh! The grossness of it all! It was still SQUISHY! This is the most DISGUSTING thing that's ever happened! I stepped in doggie POOP! My son even asked if he could take a shower. Had that not meant he'd miss the bus, I'd've said yes. I mean, how often to boys offer to shower?
Oh, the woe! Oh, the agony! Oh! The horror of having to go to school with a poo-scented foot! Oh! The horror of having poo on your bedroom carpet! Angst! Misery! Horror and Woe!
I figure he'll make some therapist very rich one day, with all the therapy he's going to need to get over what shall forevermore be known as "The Poopcident."