Oops. probably should have picked option 1. See user name. Have indoor rabbit.
I tend to not think of bunny poops as anything nasty like dog poop. They are useful, dry and non - smelly so I was thinking of the last time I stood in dog crap - sorry.
Oh and I thoroughly wiped my shoe in some wet weeds while swearing
It’s been years.
I’m far too suburban to have chickens or horses, and I haven’t lived in a dog-rich neighborhood in a very long time. I’ve not encountered dog poop in the front yard since we moved in over two years ago, so it looks like the three or four dog-walkers I see regularly are good about picking up after their pets. My cats pretty much always stick to their box, so indoor poop-treading hasn’t been an issue. I tread in cat puke all the damn time, though, so I think I’m karmically even.
I have parrots. Sometimes they miss the newspaper.
I washed off my foot and cleaned up the spot on the kitchen, all the while accompanied by three parrots gleefully saying “poopy *poopy *POOPY! **poopy ***poopy *poopy POOPY POOPY” >SQUAWK!< while bouncing up and down.
Stupid talking pets…
You mean other than dealing with kids? I once wore a tiny dangling turd on my coat to work…other women will recognize how that could be mistaken for a “frog.” (A type of button closure. Christened on me during a last minute projectile diaper change.)
Farm stuff. If you want to experience shit on a day-to-day basis, jump in a pig lot. If you like it seasonal, back a cow into a stall for injections and watch your jeans turn green.
Chicken shit is bad. Fresh chicken shit is runny green with abstract white splotches and smells…but I love chickens. They’re “cluck cluck Wha…?” I could listen to every night to go to sleep.
Guineas (sp?) I guess are about the same but they should all be killed a horrible death. They roost (go to sleep in) trees and shit on everything underneath (cars and trucks.) They gaggle hysterically at the turn of a leaf in a breeze. They can’t be eaten unless you’re willing to pick out more bones than a creek-caught fish.
Dog and cat shit is never seen/noticed, as it’s outside where they’re doing stuff like helping to herd cattle or pouncing on barn mice.
Goose poop at Granville Island, 12 hours ago.
Human excriment, um… 4 days ago? Five? Something like that.
I am a nurse and the people in my care are not exactly continent all the time. And most don’t care.
My Yorkie decided to poop just outside of the bedroom door last week. I didn’t want to turn the light on early in the morning, so as not to disturb my wife, and boom, heel right in the Yorkie turd. I sighed, hopped to the bathroom, discovered paper towels under the sink, wiped it off and then washed it off.
Even though I work in a vet’s office and have 3 dogs of my own, and I have to de-poop and mow the back yard where they poop and play, I don’t recall having stepped in shit for at least 3 years. My boyfriend seems to be a shit magnet though and he steps in it every time he mows the back yard while I seem to have a magic barrier around my feet.
Wait a sec, I’m wrong. It was 2 years ago. We were walking our dogs at the rec area and I had a dog on a leash in one hand and 3 used poop bags in the other and I stepped in shit right in the middle of the path left by some lazy fucker of a dog owner who couldn’t be bothered to clean up after their goddamn dog!!
It’s actually delicious, if my dogs are to be trusted…
Probably in the last six hours during a morning walk through the woods. Think about it. Probably a fine layer of dog shit covers every inch of a trail, every blade of grass in a park. No way to know.
If you mean step in a steaming Great Dane-wich, I don’t know. Probably never or when I was a little kid.
One imagines they did it on purpose, then…
Just a few hours ago at the county fair. A big pile right in the middle of the aisle. Wheeled the stroller through then stepped in it before I noticed. Walked a lot of it off, then scraped some off my shoe and the stroller wheels with a loose rock, then wiped the sides of my shoe with a baby wipe. Hosed the stroller wheels off when I got home. :sigh: Guess I’ll pay closer attention where I’m walking tomorrow.
Don’t have a dog, but manage to have plenty of dogshit in our yard anyway. We live in a very small community out in the country, about 8-10 houses and a bar, about as close to each other as they’d be in a suburb. Our neighbors seem to think they each live on 40 acres and let their dogs run accordingly.
We keep chickens, geese and guinea fowl. Anywhere outside the house is likely to have birdshit lurking. It is to the point that I rarely wear my shoes in the house past the front door inside welcome mat.
aruvgan do you find your geese stupid enough to drown in the rain? I ask because my mother would look out the kitchen window during a hard rain and yell, “Kids! Go out and knock the gooses’ heads down before they drown!”
The geese would be looking up in the rain with slack beaks like they were experiencing the Rapture. We would scurry off the porch into the yard and (gently) side-arm their heads down to an acceptable angle. Back on the porch, dripping, I questioned this in my mind. I depended on God as the only logical constant in my world and figured that if geese needed their heads knocked down, they would’ve been born with a tiny human coming out of the side of their necks with a long usefull arm.
My mother was city-bred and might not have known better. Or maybe we were all just bored.
Geese are smarter than the average 10 year old kid. Never had a goose drown, never had a turkey drown either. The geese were basically doing the goose equivalent to sticking their tongues out for snowflakes and catching raindrops to drink.
Your mum was being silly. There are basically no animals that drown in the rain from stupidity.
Thought so. We also had a goose who was in love with my mother’s Fiat. (The hubcap, I think because it could see itself in it? Don’t know.) Whenever she drove out of the driveway it would follow for a bit, wings spread. When she pulled back in it would rush to the car and stand at attention. I have a picture of it. 
Rancher. Explained.