Why is there so much shit in my life?

Usually when I launch into this rant it is about the physical objects that clutter my home: laundry, toys, books, shoes, more toys, etc. This time I am talking about literal shit, not mine, our dog Stella.

For those of you that don't know Stella she is a five year old black lab with a newly formed gray patch. She's faithful: moved with us 8 times and only occasionally figures out how to get out and explore the town, gentle, never barks and always lets the girls sit on her. To adults, however, she is a rambunctious puppy. Apparently the girl needs a bit more attention.

Well this morning she got it. I laid a towel in our damp stroller while the coffee machine heated up. While I was pulling my shot of espresso Sofia asked "Mama is that poop." "No, it's just mud." A second later the stinking reality became apparent, it was in fact poop and not just a tiny bit all over my shoe.

After 30 minute clean up (kitchen floor, shoes, deck & the entire yard) I'd some how calmed myself enough to find the humor in the situation. I assumed that because Stella only shits in the front yard I was safe to step where ever I like in the back. Boy was I wrong.

See the thing about shit is it can be found everywhere, especially when you think you are far from it. Thanks for the lesson Stella.

Additionally, I learned that while everyone else in the family has a creative artistic outlet Stella has now found hers. Please note that these specs of colors are the latest Crayola installation in our backyard. Proof that shit can be in color.