Java, poor girl, dragged up north to lay around waiting for me to take her out to explore.
Sitting at the cabin’s small dining table, with its wooden chairs that are too low to put my arms and hands at a good angle for typing, I was reading what I’d written the night before while Java gazed out the window, then back at me, then out the window. She also does this raised eyebrows blinking thing for emphasis.
After typing for a couple hours, my arms and shoulders began to hurt, so I tried putting the laptop on my lap, as the name would have you believe you can. I peeled off my sweatshirt, thinking I was having a hot flash, before it occured to me that the computer battery was burning my legs.
Java’s eye signals and excited, curious energy eventually won out. And that’s when we went to Lake Mille Lacs. Now, from this point on, if you are squeamish or a person who can’t stand when people start talking about bodily functions, you may want to stop reading and just cycle through the photos as hopefully, they are not gross.
Okay, so maybe this one is…
You see, the other side of the story about our visit to Lake Mille Lacs has to do with Java’s selectivity about where she does her business. Even with peeing, she’ll start to take the position, then stand back up because something just doesn’t feel right about that spot.
She will repeat this start and stop about five times (or more) before she finds just the right pile of dry leaves or mound of flattened grass. I never have to worry about her making a mess on a walking or bike path because she’ll always pulls off to the side before squatting.
But this selective process is even worse with poop. She doesn’t like to go anywhere she hasn’t walked before. So we may have to take several passes in an area or even take a couple days before she feels comfortable about pooping. When she stops eating, you know she is taking things too far. Fortunately, it didn’t take a couple days for her to feel safe in her environment.
Java decided to relieve herself at the fishing spot at Lake Mille Lacs. I think she must have been feeling like I was — a bit disappointed about the lack of a path or even a beach we could walk on.
I picked up after Java was done with one of my little poop baggies. I carry a roll of them in a pouch attached to a belt loop because I am a good, conscientious, dog owner (unlike SOME people).
Java and I walked back to the parking lot looking for a waste bin in which to toss the now full baggy. Certainly there would be a waste container somewhere. Maybe by the port-a-potty…
There was not.
Nothing to do but throw the bag in the toilet. It was poop after all in a biodegradable bag and they had left me no alternative. The chemicals would break it down.
I prayed the toilet cover was open so I could quickly toss the bag in without touching anything. Funny how touching the toilet grossed me out more than the bag of poop.
Of course, the one time a man not only puts the seat down but closes the cover…
With the barest tips of my fingers, I opened the lid. It was filled to the top with who knows what and topped off with empty pop cans.
I needn’t have worried about my biodegradable bag of poop.
And no, I don’t have any photos. And yes, I did think about it for a few seconds…
Because really, the picture you are imagining is probably worse than anything I could show in a photo. And I do feel kind of bad about that so I’ll include this photo to try and wipe away those images.