Do you ever have to go to the bathroom when you get excited?
Maybe it’s when you walk into your favorite store.
Maybe it’s when you see a friend you haven’t seen in a long time.
Maybe it’s when you get to eat pizza.
For my mom, it’s when she walks into Garden Ridge or plays Scrabble.
For me, it’s when I go into LifeWay or Barnes & Noble. Or even look at their websites.
For Buddy, it’s when he gets to go for a walk.
Sometimes he gets it over with right off the bat. Other times, it’s after he’s got his groove on and is halfway around the block.
Every time, without fail, this happens:
You would think, after three years, that we would be used to this.
We are not.
And every time, without fail, we forget to bring a grocery bag to, um, take care of it.
So we stand guard and hope no one sees him. Then we scrounge around and try to find some leaves or trash to pick “it” up with. Uusally, we can find neither. If that’s the case, we walk quickly away, hoping no one was spying from their windows.
Then there was that one time when he did it right in front of the owners of the house. They were very gracious and gave us something we could use to take care of it. And Mom and I did the whole grin-and-apologize-and-act-like-it’s-no-big-deal thing. But it was. And so embarassing.
But I’m glad Buddy gets excited about exercising.
I just sometimes wish they made public puppy pooping stations. Or should it be private?
In a word: passionate. About Jesus, church, ministry, music, reading, family, friends, and sometimes even iced skinny soy mochas.