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Callie is a great dog – if you ask Lindsay.  If you ask me, Callie has minor personality flaws that stem from being the product of a broken home and having a mother that works full time.  You mix that with the fact that she isn’t a pure bred Labrador (unlike my dog, Jake), and you’ve got a whole other mess of issues that even Cesar Milan couldn’t work through.  However, Callie is a sweet dog.  She’s got a good heart and means well.  The only time I really get agitated with her is when she whines in the morning to be let outside.  I just want her to be like Jake.  Jake will silently sit in the corner until I wake up and then wait for me to ask him, “Wanna go outside?”  But, not everyone’s dog can be rescued from an abusive family like mine was.  Jake has the self-esteem of a woman from the Lifetime Channel and I love that about him.

Shortly after Lindsay and I started dating she spent the night in Clemson in order to cut down on the travel between work and school.  She left for work bright and early and left me to take care of the dogs.  My inner stay-at-home-mom reared her ugly head and I got motivated to clean house.  This happens about twice a year.  I got out the vacuum cleaner and proceeded to start vacuuming.  No dog likes the sound of a vacuum.  Jake hates it and does the normal thing of simply walking into the next room.  As soon as I turned the vacuum on Callie went bonkers.  She froze with a look on her face that said, “Hey, does no one else hear Satan’s army marching towards us all right now?  We’re screwed people!  Run for your lives!”  She bolted towards the bedroom scared out of her mind.  Because I am an ass and found this hilarious, I may or may not have run after her with the vacuum cleaner.  Anywho, I finished vacuuming the living room and headed towards the bedroom.  I got to the doorway and that’s when I saw Callie crouched in the corner shaking like an addict with DT’s.  For a split second I felt sorry for the dog, but that feeling quickly vanished.

Before I realized what was going on Callie sprang into action.  Like a bullet from a gun she pounced and headed right for me.  Now, I’m standing squarely in the doorway.  I maybe have 6 – 8 inches of space on either side of me.  Callie leaped into the air (at full speed, mind you), and attempted her Great Escape.  That is when the shit, literally hit the wall.  She decided to try and pass me on the inside when her momentum was stopped by my left leg and door jam.  Her hind-end whipped around and slammed against the wall, where upon impact she vacated her bowels.  She sprayed a stream of shit against my wall that I’d say was a good 5 feet long.  Oh, but it didn’t stop there.  If you’ll remember Sir Issac Newton’s claim, “every action has an equal and opposite reaction,” you’ll know what happens next.  “Look out boys it’s comin’ back around!”  Her ass recoiled from the violent whiplash it had just incurred and now faced my chest and legs.  Unfortunately, her asshole was still wide open and still in the process of poo’ing.  I got covered in a healthy, liquid shit-mist from my navel to my knees.  Much like a citizen of Iraq, I was in full Shock and Awe.

You know that reaction we all have when we smell dog shit?  Well, I almost broke my neck due to the violent dry heaving that instinctually kicked in.  I start jumping up and down and waving my hands like a schoolgirl that has just witnessed Miley Cyrus getting shot in the face.  I did the only thing that makes sense to me at the time: I removed my shorts and started freaking out in a half naked, penis flapping, shit-stained daze.   I called Lindsay at work hoping to gain some sort of support.

At this point in the story, Lindsay would like to recount her version of the Call of Doom.  Let’s all remember that it is 10:30 on a Tuesday morning and Lindsay is working and not expecting calls from anyone.

Lindsay: Hello?

Jay: HI!!

Lindsay: Hi, how are you?

Jay: Uh, I’ve been better!

Lindsay: Oh no, what’s wrong?

Jay: Um, Callie is afraid of the vacuum.

Lindsay:  I know that, and so do you.

Jay:  Well, she just had diarrhea all over my house. 

Lindsay: WHAT?!? What did you DO to her?!?! Is the ok?!!?!

Jay: Nothing!  It was the vacuum!  She’s outside on the porch right now travelling down a shame spiral, and I’m doing NOTHING to make her feel better.

~uproarious laughter~

Lindsay: Ok, well, I can leave in half an hour and come help you clean up.  I’m so sorry! 

Jay: Its not your fault, I just needed to tell someone.  Well, I’m a shit-covered bald man naked from the waist down, and I’m kind of scared, so I should go. 



Lindsay could not have been more helpful.  She volunteered to leave work and help me clean up her dog’s ass residue.  However, when she found out that I was half naked, and covered in shit, she lost it and started laughing in my ear.  We both started laughing and that’s when I knew I could really start calling in favors and hang this over her head for quite sometime.  I’ve gotten some good mileage out of Callie crapping on me, but it also let me know that Lindsay is the type of person I love…one who laughs at others’ misery and misfortune, but is happy to help get you out of said misfortune.  It’s a great quality to find in a human being.

There is no good way to wrap this story up.  I got pooped on.  It was horrible.  I still resent Callie for doing it.  I’m glad I got a good story out of it though.