Sunday, August 27, 2006

Shit Equals Love

Caution: Those of you with sensitive constitutions or are easily offended may wish to read something else, although if you read my blogs, your constitution is firmly intact and it is nigh impossible to offend your senses—you may want to pray about that, it probably shows a lack in moral fiber.
I just got home from a walk with my four-legged life partner (I hate that term), husband, Dunkyn. Well, my little guy, although near perfect, has a little quirk. He has a sensitive stomach. Even if he eats the exact same healthy dog food every day, one moment he will be fine and dandy and the next we are up to our necks in matted, shitty fur. This happens nearly every other day. I am now quite proficient with the garden house (the winter freeze makes this more of a dilemma). He is clean, although soaked, within ten seconds. Today, apparently, is one of those days. Happy, happy!
I was talking to MM the other day, via email. He was telling me about his latest backpacking adventure. He and some of his good friends went together. They brought their dogs. One of these little angels continuously threw up. Often in the tent and on their sleeping bag.
This, I feel, is the test of true love. I don’t go on and on about Dunkyn’s personal problems. I just lean over, with a bag, and scoop it right up, all the while speaking in baby talk to my furry boyfriend. Did MM and his friends offer the dogs up as appetizers to the bear and cougar population? No. Undoubtedly, there was more baby talk (intermingled with curses, knowing MM).
Love is not roses, diamonds, nor fancy dinners. Love is not even passionate kissing and hours of making love. Love is shit. Love is runny, chunky, smelly, striated shit. (Ok, I did that just to be gross and rude. It was fun! Gross, but true.)
Love is forgiving someone for betraying you. Love is loving someone after they have broken your heart. Love is a wife caring for her cancer ridden husband. Love is knowing every evil, hurtful thing someone has done and embracing them within your arms. Love is weeping when the other is weeping.
Although often painful, my life is very blessed. I have shit by the trucks full!

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

Hmm, I think a lot of chickens love my porch.
And here you have to make sure you're drinking filtered water or you'll be filled with more love than you know what to do with.

Anonymous said...

Great, Tiffany is now making comments??? Now I have to stop. I can't stand not being the funniest commentator on the block.