My alarm went off like any other morning, and even though silencing my phone and staying in bed for the foreseeable future was a much more attractive prospect than leaving my drool-bedazzled pillow, my furry, fail-safe alarm hopped onto my pillow mid-purr, forcing me to rise if not shine.

When I wake up in the morning my first thought is not,

What a wonderful day to be alive!

It’s closer to,

OMG I HAVE TO PEE SO BADLY. How did I manage not to wet the bed?

I ambled to the bathroom in the dark with my hair a mess, retainer still in place, and bags accessorizing the sleepies at the corners of my eyes. In the morning, I delay turning a light on until the very last minute. The minute you turn a light on at home, responsibilities begin.

Alas, on this morning I learned the horrors that can come of walking around barefoot in the dark as a pet owner.

I took two steps into the bathroom—the first one was routine, but something went horribly wrong with the second. When I shifted my weight to my right foot, I sunk down into something chilled to room temperature. It was mushy, and I could tell whatever it was had flattened and affixed itself the bottom of my foot. In my heart of hearts, I knew I had just stepped in poo barefooted.

Wait a second, how could you not smell it as soon as you got in the bathroom?

Um, maybe because I was in the bathroom? It always smells bad in there! With the things that come out of my boyfriend, it’s a wonder the entire apartment doesn’t smell like a colon (as in, part of the anatomy–I imagine grammatical colons smell like Fig Newtons).

I’m perched in front of the toilet with one leg up like a feces-ridden flamingo contemplating what just happened. Because it’s early in the morning, and because stepping in poo without so much as a sock or a slipper barrier takes you to a dark place, these are some of the thoughts I entertained:

1.) Did my boyfriend, Mike, wake up for a midnight mutiny and miss the toilet?

2.) I’m going to drop an anvil on the dog’s head.

3.) Maybe I’ll just buy the dog a one-way bus ticket. To Crimea.

4.) MAYBE THIS ISN’T POOP! Maybe Mike woke up for a late night snack and he made some oatmeal. He decided to eat in the bathroom in the dark, because he didn’t want to wake me up! But he spilled a little on the floor, and that’s what I just stepped in. Room temperature oatmeal!

I turned the bathroom light on and saw with my own two eyes a thick, brown layer of poop pressed into the ball of my foot.


The only relatively good news was the poo didn’t get between my toes. When you have poop on your bare foot, you take any silver lining you can get.

Now that I’d ascertained, beyond all reasonable doubt, that there was indeed poo on my foot, I was pissed. I’m no stranger to the crushing woe that comes of stepping in poop in one of my favorite pairs of shoes, but what I’d just endured was beyond compare. Should I fall head over heels in love at this very moment, poop would metaphorically be inches from my face. I angrily did four one-footed hops (angry one-footed hops are probably reserved for amputees, but, heat of the moment and all that) to the paper towel dispenser in the kitchen—

Hang on, why wouldn’t you just use toilet paper? You were in the bathroom! Your hopping transferred your poop foot to the room where food is prepared!

YES, I AM AWARE OF THAT! While toilet paper is the ideal width for cleaning a butt crack, when you have dung on your foot, you want a full size, regulation paper towel, not a collection of tiny squares prone to tearing (Charmin wasn’t on sale the last time we bought TP, okay?).

I turned on the light and start cleaning off my foot, and I hear Mike is still peacefully sawing logs in the other room despite there being two lights on and an angry, dung-footed woman hop stomping around.

Am I the only person who only resents her significant other’s ability to sleep through anything whenever something goes wrong? I know I wake up before him, and I don’t want to trouble him with something that isn’t his fault, and rock-a-bye baby etc., but when something unusual happens, I want everyone to be awake to take stock of it, even if it’s too late to do anything to stop this unusual event/probable mess from happening.

So once my foot is cleaned, I did this really dramatic thing where I charged into the bedroom where both my boyfriend and Blu, the dog, were sleeping, and I confronted the dog about her despotic dump. It’s 4:10 a.m., and I’m antagonizing a dog about pooping in the house, mostly because I want my boyfriend to wake up on his own (but as a result of the commotion I’m creating) so I can tell him about the ordeal I’ve suffered and maybe even reap a little sympathy. I grabbed both sides of Blu’s head and spluttered,

“You are lucky I don’t ship you off to Crimea!!!!!!”

I glanced over to find Mike dead to the world, blissfully ignorant of Blu’s inside-the-house poop and my unfortunate misstep. I gave up. Clearly, this would have to wait until a more appropriate hour.

Now that I was fully awake, a pressing inquiry crossed my mind:

When Mike woke up in the middle of the night to pee, did he manage to avoid the poop in the dark simply by chance? Has the dog been monitoring my bathroom walking path so she could poop strategically and sabotage me?

Suffice it to say, I don’t know whom to trust anymore, I’ll be using my iPhone as a lantern from now on, and I’m not holding out much hope for a week that’s off to such a crappy start already.

Have you ever stepped in it barefoot? Do you ever try dramatically to wake people up? Is anyone interested in adopting a dog? Crimeans?

46 thoughts on “So, I Stepped in Dog Poop This Morning

  1. My dog has been sick for months and can’t control it (he’s getting older) and it’s just the worst thing in the world to wake up to fresh dog poo.

    1. YES. I have no idea if that’s what’s going on here. Blu has been pooping in the house the last few days now, but usually when my boyfriend and I are out. But… she’s pooping outside, too? I have no idea what to make of it.

  2. 1) The worst time I’ve realised I had a hole in a shoe was when I was swishing through autumn leaves in the park…and trod in concealed dog poo.
    2) Treading bare foot on a slug is hideous too and definitely not recommended. Probably worse for the slug though. My foot is no way to die.
    3) The cat always waits until the middle of the night to be sick. ALWAYS. And always in our bedroom. Husband and I pretend to each other that we’re asleep, so we don’t have to deal with it, Fair enough. BUT, Husband always gets up first mid-week and STILL pretends to be ignorant to the vomit piles. I think next time I might do something strategic with them to teach him that cat-spew management is not part of my job description.
    Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to retch a bit.

    1. Slugs are just disgusting period. I’m not sure which is worse, poo or slug. At least poo wasn’t a living thing?

      These men are sneaky. One time the cat knocked over his food and water bowl and it made a loud crash and made a huge mess all over the kitchen floor, and I wake with a start to discover my boyfriend is just sleeping like nothing was wrong. I swear, I’ve never seen someone fall asleep so quickly or sleep so soundly.

  3. 1. I have SO been here, lol.
    2. I resent my partner because he also sleeps through every single unpleasant thing that happens in the middle of the night.
    3. I loved this post.

    1. Oh no! And I’m sure they’re old so of course you can’t just go buy another pair. That’s the worst. It’s terrible having to ask yourself, “Should I clean this out, or is it easier to just throw it away?”

  4. Aww. And then I’m sure when you yelled at her she just looked at you all cute like “What?” I do feel bad for them sometimes, though. I mean, if I had to poop really bad I’d just poop too.

    A year ago when I found my kitten he wasn’t potty trained so dodging and cleaning crap was a daily occurrence. Then he finally started going in the litter box, but would turn around and step in it, then track it all over the damn floor. Sometimes I’d find it on the walls – I don’t know how this happened. Turning a cat upside down to clean shit out of the grooves of his paw pads takes a lot of skill and maneuvering.

    Ah, the joys of pet parenthood.

    1. I actually didn’t raise my voice at her, because I could tell by the shit temperature she did it awhile ago and probably forgot it even happened. I just wish she could’ve made it to the toilet. At least she didn’t go on any of the carpet, though.

      I really appreciate my cat, because he’s never pooped anywhere but inside his litter box. He’s peed twice outside of the box, but he’s never pooped.

    2. Oh no! That sounded like she normally does, but no. What I meant was, the poop was literally less than a foot away from the toilet. With some effort, she could’ve made it.

    1. So is this a real artist, because I figured the song part was fictional, but Lightning Jay Hophead sounded legit. Google seems to be telling me otherwise…

    1. This isn’t the first time she’s pooped inside, but she’s never done it in the middle of the night. And never when it wasn’t light enough to see it staring up at me.

      1. I guess you were pretty bitter that morning? Especially at the boyfriend for not waking up and being sympathetic? By the way, you can’t be sympathetic without pathetic.

    1. YES! I’m supposed to safe there! But no. Forgive me, but no person should have to tread carefully around their own home for fear of stepping in something. It’s just not right.

  5. I’m lucky in the fact that I have only ever had dog poo on my thumb. Maybe lucky wasn’t the best choice of word. My main faeces of choice is that of a pigeon. I am the unwilling recipient of half a face full of pigeon poop which covered one side like a Phantom of the opera mask, and a full evacuation of warm rectum custard down the back of my neck whilst waiting for a bus. I honestly feel your poo pain, at least you were in the comfort of your own home. Great writing as always. Keep it up

    1. OH NO! I’ve gotten bird poop on my wrist, but the face?! That’s terrible. It might be great for your sking though?

      I feel like getting stuff on your hands is the least alarming because it’s the easiest to wash off, and you can make a fist if necessary. If it’s on your face/in your hair/on your foot it’s so much more distressing.

  6. So, I feel you.. I just touched bird sh!t…… I mean its 21st century, we need to have some technology which implants manners in animals…. But then that’s the only difference humans and animals have….(except in the case of some humans.. They are already living equal to the animal society :/ ) ….

    1. Ick. What I don’t get about bird shit is all the goo that accompanies it? Like there are multiple components in bird poo, and in some ways that’s worse.

  7. It is common knowledge that I go to bed as happy and wake up as grumpy. So fate knows better than giving me a situation where I have to deal with that kinda shit, that time of the morning… ALL. MY. SYMPATHY.

  8. …I have decided not to take direct offense to the picture you used in relation to my blog title. Therefore, I shall not sue.
    Just kidding, I’m fine haha
    NOPE, never stepped in poop. The day I do is the say that animal dies.
    Or gets shipped off to, i don’t know, Crimea?

    1. HA. I’m sorry.

      Can I tell you that I beat my boyfriend home that evening, and there was MORE POOP?! And I know you’re probably thinking, “Oh, the poor doggy was sick.” And it’s like, yeah, but that doesn’t make it okay.

  9. Yes! This happened to me recently when my dog had a dodgy stomach. I stepped in wearing tights, it was cold and disgusting. I briefly considered bleaching my foot.

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