Classic Cardigan: I Love Potty Humor and I Can't Help It

But first, here's a photo of the boys that I "swiped" from Jodi, the talented (and award-winning) dog blogger at Kol's Notes - Tips and Tricks from the DIY Dog...

She took it on Saturday, while at the BlogPaws pet blogging and social media conference in Tysons Corner, Virginia. I was not there.          

OK, yes I was! ;) (That's partly why I'm posting this "classic" today...because I'm old and tired, y'all.)

But anyway, about that photo. So, we were in a large dining room at the conference hotel, in the middle of zillions of people (and some other pets), when Jodi kindly gave me a baggie of some of her homemade carob dog treats, and then Dewi got completely fixed on the bag in my hand, and stood up on his haunches (as pictured), and did a show for everyone in the room, which made me a very proud dog mama! (JF did tricks and made me proud, too, by the way.)

And, there you go! The dogs represented at BlogPaws. :) They (and I) had a wonderful time. More on that later.

Today, though, I'd like to re-share a story I wrote over two years ago, which for the longest time (like up until last week), I had forgotten about. Because it's "hiding" under a post title that, other than the word "turd," has nothing to do with why I find potty humor so appealing.
(Hint: It might be genetic...or a product of my upbringing. You decide. ;-)

Originally published on March 2, 2011 (under a somewhat misleading title)...

There's a turd in the litterbox! Somebody celebrate with me!

Made you look! :)     (sorry, I couldn't resist.)

image credit bandofcats.com

Preface: Somewhere, my hubby -- as he reads the blog now and then -- is hanging his head in shame. He thinks that I'm (check that -- my *whole family* on my dad's side) -- is fascinated with poop. For the record, I strongly disagree; however, I will admit that growing up, the subject (poop) was discussed freely. To be exact, my father (quite matter-of-factly) believed that just about any ailment could be attributed to one's being "irregular." Headache? You must be constipated. Bad breath? Constipated. Cranky? Clogged pipes. :) So, we ate a lot of beans and greasy things (no Activia back in that day) to keep things running smoothly. And incidentally, I still had bad breath and got headaches (but was a perfect angel otherwise). (FYI: There's a sucker born every minute. :)

Why there was even that *one* time when -- fairly early in our courtship -- my then boyfriend (now hubby) was over for dinner. He (boyfriend) must have turned down a second helping of butter beans (or some other mushy form of fiber) when my dad -- in his best Sheriff Andy Taylor drawl -- exclaimed, "B___, Ahh SUMtimes wurreh 'bowt yer reg-ye-LAIR-teh!" (Translation: "B___, I sometimes worry about your regularity!")  The rest of the meal was a blur.  I'm surprised I didn't get dumped (pun intended). :)

*****

But, enough about me!  You might recall from yesterday that my old cat, Charlie, has been down with some bad tummy upset (hint: not constipation), which at her age, could have conceivably been her demise. However, this morning, there in her own private litterbox -- a turd! The old girl is still in the game. :) What a relief!

Carry on, y'all. :)


Chocolate, anyone?

In Memoriam: Charlie (Chatting it up in kitty heaven), 1991 - June 2, 2011