Pooptis Interruptis.....

Ferg is in training.  He is as focused as an Olympic level athlete.  Nothing and I mean nothing will deter him from his goal.

What is his goal you ask?

Well....... there are differing opinions about this.  I am sure Ferg would say what he wants in life is to poo in as many interesting places as he can.  I on the other hand am convinced he is a thrill seeker and his quest for an adrenaline rush is going to get one of us killed.

Poo Bags... a girl's best friend

I love Ferg to death but he is a mega monster pooping machine.  I never leave the house without a full roll of poo bags because with Ferg around you can never have enough.

Again if you asked Ferg he would probably respond with a quick-  "Hey man, I'm just trying to add some weight training to our daily cardio."  But I seriously have my doubts.

See Ferg has a propensity for pooping in the dead middle of the road.  This leads to me frantically trying to locate and open a bag and retrieve the offending fecal matter before we all get hit by a car.

Up until now he has kept is mad-man pooping to the side streets, so that I have a fighting chance, but today he decided to take his game to the next level..... the main thoroughfare.

Gim, Ferg and I stood on the edge of the road waiting for traffic to clear, so that we could make our way to the other side.  Our pack had just started the mad dash across the road and had made it about half way, before skidding to an abrupt halt.  I turn to find Ferg in full hunched bared- down pooping position.

No..... no, no, no..... nooooooooooooooooooooo!

I briefly caught a glimpse of headlights out of the corner of my eye as I spun around and dragged Gimli and the pooping Ferg back to the edge of the road out of harms way.   Ferg was so startled he stopped mid-poop but not before he squeezed out a nugget.  A nugget that lay in the middle of the road mocking me as cars whizzed by.

Now you are probably wondering how poo can mock.... let me tell you.  I have a creed.  One that is very near and dear to my heart and I stake my name and word on-  "No poo left behind".  It offends my very core to walk by abandon poo.  Now I was facing a predicament.  Do I rush across the street and leave the nugget to the mercy of car tires or do I try and pick it up on the way by, risking one of us getting hit by a car.

I stood on the side of the road cursing Ferg for putting me in a position where I had to make a choice-  leave the poo and play it safe or pick-up the poo and risk death.

Dear reader, as much as I wanted to leave it, I just couldn't.  Under the flash of headlights I pulled out a bag and readied it over my hand.  We start for the poo, but the sound of an engine bearing down on us made me realize we didn't have enough time to scoop and run.  We hastily retreated and readied ourselves for attempt 2.  That didn't go much better, but number 3 was the winner.  We scooped and made it to other side, where Fergus promptly resumed pooping on the safety of the sidewalk.   I presume the pooping was his way of celebrating our victory.

And that is how I spent my Saturday night, playing a warped version of Frogger or in this case Fergger.