The eight weeks of Toby's first obedience class flew by. Leave it, sit, stay. Come, down, drop it. Walk. No pull. Those were the eight commands we learned those eight weeks. Although this beginner class wasn't a puppy class, Mr. Dean occasionally walked over to quietly tell me, "Now for Toby..." and then there would be a modification, always to my  relief. For example, if an adult dog should "stay" for 3 minutes, perhaps 30 seconds, or 15, was good enough for the puppy.

At our last lesson every dog showed improvement in both behavior and obedience. Shy collie Lily was still shy but walked the gauntlet of other dogs more willingly. Maybe it was my imagination, but I thought her owner seemed more proud of her and more confident himself.

 Jax, the dog with canine ADHD, revealed his innate intelligence by learning all 8 commands. His owner was so calm and loving. No doubt life at home had improved for them both now that Jax understood how to please her.  Golden Glory was perfection on every command. Her intelligence and breeding really showed. She smiled for the entire hour.

Toby was a blur of motion.

Big Ralph showed the biggest change - visually as well as behaviorally. One week he showed up with an all-over summer clip and it looked like he was the winner of Biggest Loser! I swear, he'd lost 50 pounds in a week - but it was all black and brown fur. In terms of obedience Ralph no longer lunged at other dogs. Best of all his "parents" beamed with pride as they told us how the neighbors had been complimenting them on having such a well-behaved dog.

Little Mikey was still nervous as ever. Without a doubt though his "stay" and "down" were more solid. Fluffy cotton ball Bonnie did well too. She still liked to yap about it though, like a teenager who complains about taking out the trash all the way to the curb.

Mr. Dean congratulated us all. He announced that he didn't believe in certificates. "When your dog is out for a walk or at PetSmart and behaves beautifully, that's your certificate. That is how everyone will know you've graduated from obedience class." We would soon have that kind of validation for Toby.

Next post: houseguests

The eight weeks of Toby's first obedience class flew by. Leave it, sit, stay. Come, down, drop it. Walk. No pull. Those were the eight commands we learned those eight weeks. Although this beginner class wasn't a puppy class, Mr. Dean occasionally walked over to quietly tell me, "Now for Toby..." and then there would be a modification, always to my  relief. For example, if an adult dog should "stay" for 3 minutes, perhaps 30 seconds, or 15, was good enough for the puppy.

At our last lesson every dog showed improvement in both behavior and obedience. Shy collie Lily was still shy but walked the gauntlet of other dogs more willingly. Maybe it was my imagination, but I thought her owner seemed more proud of her and more confident himself.

 Jax, the dog with canine ADHD, revealed his innate intelligence by learning all 8 commands. His owner was so calm and loving. No doubt life at home had improved for them both now that Jax understood how to please her.  Golden Glory was perfection on every command. Her intelligence and breeding really showed. She smiled for the entire hour.

Toby was a blur of motion.

Big Ralph showed the biggest change - visually as well as behaviorally. One week he showed up with an all-over summer clip and it looked like he was the winner of Biggest Loser! I swear, he'd lost 50 pounds in a week - but it was all black and brown fur. In terms of obedience Ralph no longer lunged at other dogs. Best of all his "parents" beamed with pride as they told us how the neighbors had been complimenting them on having such a well-behaved dog.

Little Mikey was still nervous as ever. Without a doubt though his "stay" and "down" were more solid. Fluffy cotton ball Bonnie did well too. She still liked to yap about it though, like a teenager who complains about taking out the trash all the way to the curb.

Mr. Dean congratulated us all. He announced that he didn't believe in certificates. "When your dog is out for a walk or at PetSmart and behaves beautifully, that's your certificate. That is how everyone will know you've graduated from obedience class." We would soon have that kind of validation for Toby.

Next post: houseguests

Toby visits with Flat Stanley for Ryan's second grade class.

When I started this blog I thought I'd spend several weeks describing, in chronological order, all of Toby's classes and adventures. What I've discovered is that too many things are happening in the here-and-now that I want to write about before they are a distant memory. Yet it is still fun to time travel back to those puppy days and first experiences.

I don't want to make the blog confusing to visit. What seems more natural, though, is to mix up the posts, and talk about current happenings sometimes, and past events at other times. That way I can be excited about the present but look back at the past.

Since we are waiting for Toby's therapy dog license to arrive, the next posts will probably be about previous lessons or experiences (there's his first camping trip, for example). Thanks for your patience while I learn what works best for me as a new blogger - and thank you for following my and Toby's blog!

Toby visits with Flat Stanley for Ryan's second grade class.

When I started this blog I thought I'd spend several weeks describing, in chronological order, all of Toby's classes and adventures. What I've discovered is that too many things are happening in the here-and-now that I want to write about before they are a distant memory. Yet it is still fun to time travel back to those puppy days and first experiences.

I don't want to make the blog confusing to visit. What seems more natural, though, is to mix up the posts, and talk about current happenings sometimes, and past events at other times. That way I can be excited about the present but look back at the past.

Since we are waiting for Toby's therapy dog license to arrive, the next posts will probably be about previous lessons or experiences (there's his first camping trip, for example). Thanks for your patience while I learn what works best for me as a new blogger - and thank you for following my and Toby's blog!

Still a Destroyer sometimes...

Toby passed his Therapy Dog test!
The testing itself was nerve-wracking for me, the handler. To begin with, there were a dozen dogs in the building. Only a few of them were Toby's classmates. All of the other dogs were complete strangers, and 100% of the canines were reflecting the excitement and anxiety of their handlers.

The registration table was set up opposite the doorway, about 8 feet away. I pulled Toby's leash in close so he had to sit at my feet while I stood at the table filling out the paperwork. While I was distracted another owner allowed her dog to "get in Toby's face". I don't really know what took place, but suddenly Toby gave a VERY uncharacteristic warning growl. We could have failed the test on the spot. Fortunately, the tester who witnessed this incident chose to give Toby another chance to demonstrate his ability to get along with other dogs. She encouraged us to mingle around the room while she observed his interactions with the other pets. Of course I greeted the dogs we already knew first! By the end of about 10 minutes of mingling this tester was smiling and nodding encouragement to me from across the room. Whew!

I'll call the petite lady who was officially in charge of the proceedings the Head Tester. The other two testers were her assistants. She called us to gather around her and quietly reminded us, "Every emotion you are feeling is going right down that leash and into the dog. Relax and try to have fun this afternoon. If you don't pass, no big deal. We give tests frequently and you can try again. Does anyone have any treats? No? Good, because they are not permitted." Then we started the mingling again, but this time helpers were circulating around in wheelchairs, walkers, and crutches. Pshaw. Toby  couldn't care less about the medical equipment.

There were really only two parts of the test I was worried about. One was the supervised separation. This was the hardest part of the CGC test too. The idea is that Toby has to wait calmly with a total stranger for three minutes while I am out of sight. Can you guess what we had to do first? I got very lucky though. A handler had brought her teenage son and he had been recruited to help out. To my relief, this young man was Toby's "stranger". Toby loves children, and I had overheard the boy being told he could pet, talk to, and play with Toby. Whew again!

Next was sit, down, sit again, stay, and come. Toby is rock solid on those commands, and I was confident. Sure enough, Toby's performance in front of the Head Tester was flawless.

We relaxed on the floor against the wall as the other dogs finished the supervised separation and other commands. Soon it was time to gather in a circle for the testers to approach and handle each dog's ears and feet, then brush each one gently a few times. Toby was brushed by the Head Tester. I reminded her that he was going to want to smell her brush first; I didn't want her to think he was afraid of it. "Oh, of course! I was going to do that anyway." So that was no problem either. Ditto the part where the teenager ran past the line of dogs shrieking like a maniac and waving his arms, and the testers walked behind us banging on pans.

At that point all that remained was the one test I was dreading. The Head Tester placed an aluminum bread pan upside down in the center of the room. She put two Milk Bone treats on top. The only dog in the room who reacted was Toby. He was on his feet instantly, sniffing and pulling toward the treat. So inevitably she chose him to walk by first and "Leave It". Yikes. Hopefully, I asked if it mattered which side we passed the treats on. It did. Toby had to be on the side next to the treats. I tried to walk quickly but no question, I had to pull on the leash to restrain him from gobbling the Milk Bones. The other dogs paraded by in a line with far less trouble. As a result we had to try again and on this second pass I was able to get Toby by with just a  quick turn of the head.

The testers conferred at one end of the room while Toby and I waited with the dogs and handlers from his class. No one was certain they had passed. Everyone had had trouble with something, so we encouraged each other and petted each other's dogs as we waited.

Several minutes dragged by before the Head Tester returned to line us up. Everyone passed! She read my name and handed me the Therapy Dog International paperwork to send in. Soon Toby will have his official Therapy Dog license and can start making visits. That will be our next adventure together.

Toby makes short work of a canine brainteaser.

Still a Destroyer sometimes...

Toby passed his Therapy Dog test!
The testing itself was nerve-wracking for me, the handler. To begin with, there were a dozen dogs in the building. Only a few of them were Toby's classmates. All of the other dogs were complete strangers, and 100% of the canines were reflecting the excitement and anxiety of their handlers.

The registration table was set up opposite the doorway, about 8 feet away. I pulled Toby's leash in close so he had to sit at my feet while I stood at the table filling out the paperwork. While I was distracted another owner allowed her dog to "get in Toby's face". I don't really know what took place, but suddenly Toby gave a VERY uncharacteristic warning growl. We could have failed the test on the spot. Fortunately, the tester who witnessed this incident chose to give Toby another chance to demonstrate his ability to get along with other dogs. She encouraged us to mingle around the room while she observed his interactions with the other pets. Of course I greeted the dogs we already knew first! By the end of about 10 minutes of mingling this tester was smiling and nodding encouragement to me from across the room. Whew!

I'll call the petite lady who was officially in charge of the proceedings the Head Tester. The other two testers were her assistants. She called us to gather around her and quietly reminded us, "Every emotion you are feeling is going right down that leash and into the dog. Relax and try to have fun this afternoon. If you don't pass, no big deal. We give tests frequently and you can try again. Does anyone have any treats? No? Good, because they are not permitted." Then we started the mingling again, but this time helpers were circulating around in wheelchairs, walkers, and crutches. Pshaw. Toby  couldn't care less about the medical equipment.

There were really only two parts of the test I was worried about. One was the supervised separation. This was the hardest part of the CGC test too. The idea is that Toby has to wait calmly with a total stranger for three minutes while I am out of sight. Can you guess what we had to do first? I got very lucky though. A handler had brought her teenage son and he had been recruited to help out. To my relief, this young man was Toby's "stranger". Toby loves children, and I had overheard the boy being told he could pet, talk to, and play with Toby. Whew again!

Next was sit, down, sit again, stay, and come. Toby is rock solid on those commands, and I was confident. Sure enough, Toby's performance in front of the Head Tester was flawless.

We relaxed on the floor against the wall as the other dogs finished the supervised separation and other commands. Soon it was time to gather in a circle for the testers to approach and handle each dog's ears and feet, then brush each one gently a few times. Toby was brushed by the Head Tester. I reminded her that he was going to want to smell her brush first; I didn't want her to think he was afraid of it. "Oh, of course! I was going to do that anyway." So that was no problem either. Ditto the part where the teenager ran past the line of dogs shrieking like a maniac and waving his arms, and the testers walked behind us banging on pans.

At that point all that remained was the one test I was dreading. The Head Tester placed an aluminum bread pan upside down in the center of the room. She put two Milk Bone treats on top. The only dog in the room who reacted was Toby. He was on his feet instantly, sniffing and pulling toward the treat. So inevitably she chose him to walk by first and "Leave It". Yikes. Hopefully, I asked if it mattered which side we passed the treats on. It did. Toby had to be on the side next to the treats. I tried to walk quickly but no question, I had to pull on the leash to restrain him from gobbling the Milk Bones. The other dogs paraded by in a line with far less trouble. As a result we had to try again and on this second pass I was able to get Toby by with just a  quick turn of the head.

The testers conferred at one end of the room while Toby and I waited with the dogs and handlers from his class. No one was certain they had passed. Everyone had had trouble with something, so we encouraged each other and petted each other's dogs as we waited.

Several minutes dragged by before the Head Tester returned to line us up. Everyone passed! She read my name and handed me the Therapy Dog International paperwork to send in. Soon Toby will have his official Therapy Dog license and can start making visits. That will be our next adventure together.

Toby makes short work of a canine brainteaser.

Toby's Therapy Dog test is in 100 minutes! Yesterday we walked around outside Home Depot, and that went so well that we tried going into Lowe's today. We walked around for about 30 minutes and he greeted several people - all ages, from a little girl to an elderly clerk. Toby was friendly and I was pleased that he didn't act skittish when they reached to pet him like he sometimes does with strangers. He had a long walk with Ted this morning and I just fed him so he won't be hungry when we have to walk past treats on the floor and "leave it".

He got the Canine Good Citizen - will Therapy Dog be next???

The rabies certificate, city dog license, treat bag, leash, and dog brush are all set out on the counter. Cash to pay for the test is in my purse (I checked!). I think we're as ready as we can possibly be. Fingers crossed!

Toby's Therapy Dog test is in 100 minutes! Yesterday we walked around outside Home Depot, and that went so well that we tried going into Lowe's today. We walked around for about 30 minutes and he greeted several people - all ages, from a little girl to an elderly clerk. Toby was friendly and I was pleased that he didn't act skittish when they reached to pet him like he sometimes does with strangers. He had a long walk with Ted this morning and I just fed him so he won't be hungry when we have to walk past treats on the floor and "leave it".

He got the Canine Good Citizen - will Therapy Dog be next???

The rabies certificate, city dog license, treat bag, leash, and dog brush are all set out on the counter. Cash to pay for the test is in my purse (I checked!). I think we're as ready as we can possibly be. Fingers crossed!

Tomorrow is the Big Test for Toby to be officially certified as a Therapy Dog. We've been practicing. Today I took him to Home Depot. We walked up and down the garden display next to the parking lot and he was very good. There are going to be 14 dogs at the testing tomorrow. He's solid on everything but "leave it" and loose leash walking (because he wants to go sniff all of the other dogs). The trainer says he'll pass with flying colors - we'll see!

Toby and Mareto having fun with the sprinkler!

I've described before how Toby loves to bite the water coming out of sprinklers. We put a fun one in the yard on Mother's Day for our grandson and Toby went nuts! Soon he was soaked but he had more fun with it than anyone.

Tomorrow is the Big Test for Toby to be officially certified as a Therapy Dog. We've been practicing. Today I took him to Home Depot. We walked up and down the garden display next to the parking lot and he was very good. There are going to be 14 dogs at the testing tomorrow. He's solid on everything but "leave it" and loose leash walking (because he wants to go sniff all of the other dogs). The trainer says he'll pass with flying colors - we'll see!

Toby and Mareto having fun with the sprinkler!

I've described before how Toby loves to bite the water coming out of sprinklers. We put a fun one in the yard on Mother's Day for our grandson and Toby went nuts! Soon he was soaked but he had more fun with it than anyone.

This post is dedicated to the memory of my friend and colleague Liz Everett, who passed away on Friday, May 11. Liz was the proud mama of feline children whose photos graced her room. I miss you already Liz. 


On Mother's Day, I woke as usual to a soft whine and a lick on my bare foot sticking out of the covers. Toby is as regular as clockwork. By 7 AM he wants to get downstairs and get his greenie treat. Then he's willing to relax while Ted and I read the paper and try to wake up with our coffee.

While the dog whisperer says a dog needs a pack leader, I agree with other animal behaviorists that what dogs actually require are parents. Dogs are in many ways juvenile wolves with unique adaptations to living with humans that have developed over - some experts say - the last 15,000 years. The reason our dogs incite our instinctive baby talk is that they basically remain stuck in puppyhood physically - the droopy ears, short nose, and short jaw for starters. Recent studies have also shown that when a human pets a dog, their blood levels of oxytocin rise. Oxytocin is the hormone responsible for labor and delivery, parent-child bonding, and bonding between lovers. Oxytocin reduces aggression and triggers feelings of warmth, cooperation, and affection.

The dogs experience increased oxytocin levels too. And uniquely among our fellow mammals, dogs will maintain eye contact with humans. Isn't this remarkable given that in dog-dog interactions, eye contact signals aggression? Somehow our dogs recognize - or translate - our emotional subtext.

So while I resist being called Toby's "Mom" (I mean I do have lovely human kids) the truth is that Toby probably does love me and depend on me as he would a mother. He loves unconditionally and all the time. He is never too busy or too cool to take a walk or give a "kiss" on the cheek. His love is so uncomplicated. There are no misunderstandings with pheromones, body language, and tone of voice.

Toby, it's true that you get too many treats, but at least they're the healthy kind (no ice cream anyway). It's true that you are spoiled because I've learned over the past 54 years how few chances we get to show our love to those we treasure, and dogs have such short lives. It's also true that you know a lot more about what I'm feeling than I know about you. But I'll keep taking you to classes and working on our teamwork.

Come here for a belly rub, you big baby!

This post is dedicated to the memory of my friend and colleague Liz Everett, who passed away on Friday, May 11. Liz was the proud mama of feline children whose photos graced her room. I miss you already Liz. 


On Mother's Day, I woke as usual to a soft whine and a lick on my bare foot sticking out of the covers. Toby is as regular as clockwork. By 7 AM he wants to get downstairs and get his greenie treat. Then he's willing to relax while Ted and I read the paper and try to wake up with our coffee.

While the dog whisperer says a dog needs a pack leader, I agree with other animal behaviorists that what dogs actually require are parents. Dogs are in many ways juvenile wolves with unique adaptations to living with humans that have developed over - some experts say - the last 15,000 years. The reason our dogs incite our instinctive baby talk is that they basically remain stuck in puppyhood physically - the droopy ears, short nose, and short jaw for starters. Recent studies have also shown that when a human pets a dog, their blood levels of oxytocin rise. Oxytocin is the hormone responsible for labor and delivery, parent-child bonding, and bonding between lovers. Oxytocin reduces aggression and triggers feelings of warmth, cooperation, and affection.

The dogs experience increased oxytocin levels too. And uniquely among our fellow mammals, dogs will maintain eye contact with humans. Isn't this remarkable given that in dog-dog interactions, eye contact signals aggression? Somehow our dogs recognize - or translate - our emotional subtext.

So while I resist being called Toby's "Mom" (I mean I do have lovely human kids) the truth is that Toby probably does love me and depend on me as he would a mother. He loves unconditionally and all the time. He is never too busy or too cool to take a walk or give a "kiss" on the cheek. His love is so uncomplicated. There are no misunderstandings with pheromones, body language, and tone of voice.

Toby, it's true that you get too many treats, but at least they're the healthy kind (no ice cream anyway). It's true that you are spoiled because I've learned over the past 54 years how few chances we get to show our love to those we treasure, and dogs have such short lives. It's also true that you know a lot more about what I'm feeling than I know about you. But I'll keep taking you to classes and working on our teamwork.

Come here for a belly rub, you big baby!

It's a beautiful May Saturday! Cool and sunny, perfect for a long walk in the neighborhood with Toby. After my Jazzercise workout, shower, and breakfast, we set out for our urban hike. I had the requisite brown plastic shopping bag in my pocket for Toby's inevitable bathroom break. 


It's so funny to watch him decide which mailboxes, light posts, grass clumps, or bushes need a sprinkle to let other dogs know he's been there. He'll spend up to a minute (if we let him) sniffing. What can possibly be so interesting to sniff for that long? The experts say dogs can determine the sex, age, diet, and dominance quotient of all the other dogs who've been by just by sniffing their pee. After his investigation Toby might lift his leg and add his own information to the collection. On the other hand, he's just as likely to trot away, as if that particular spot wasn't worthy of his valuable urine.

Toby doesn't do headstands though.

Similarly, Toby will put his nose to the grass like a bloodhound, sniffing mightily as he walks along. When he starts doing this, we know it's almost time to use that plastic bag. He might do this for an entire block. Suddenly he plants his feet and sweeps his nose from side to side. He may turn in a few circles, still sniffing. Apparently his poop must be dropped in precisely the proper spot. How does he decide where that spot is? Why does it matter so much? I think we'll never really understand some of the things dogs think are important. I wonder which of the things I'm picky about are baffling to Toby. Does he think, "Really, guys? Another shower? What's this boring obsession with cleanliness?"


As I picked up Toby's doggie poo (one of the few truly unfortunate obligations of owning a dog) I noticed that he had a touch of diarrhea. Probably he's been eating or licking the numerous toads that live in our back yard. A bit farther down the street at the neighborhood park I dropped his waste into a trash can. We continued down the street and a few minutes later a white plastic shopping bag blew across the sidewalk in front of us. I hate litter, especially those bags, so I picked it up and put it into my pocket.


We turned into the home stretch, just about a half mile to go. The sun was warm, there was that new-mowed grass smell everywhere, and in our neighborhood there is a lot of pride in colorful flowers and attractive landscaping. Wherever there were sprinklers operating, Toby pulled at the leash to get at 'em. He loves to bite the jets of water. All of a sudden, in one of those yards where the grass is PERFECT, Toby's nose went back down into bloodhound position. Twice in one walk!


Ordinarily this would be a disaster. Socially, because of course everyone hates it when someone leaves their dog's poop steaming in other people's yards. Ethically, because when you live in the Chesapeake Bay watershed, "the number one problem of the Bay is Number Two"! (The advertising of local conservation groups to convince folks living along the Lynnhaven River to pick up the dog waste have been a big part of Lynnhaven oysters being fit for consumption for the first time in years.)


But this time, I could pull the white bag from my pocket, smugly congratulating myself on my cleverness. Who says good deeds aren't rewarded?  Scooping away, Toby's mess was really runny this time. Yuck. I tied off the bag and we set off again, almost home. 
Ewww! Somehow I'd gotten some of it on my calf! I walked a little faster. I was anxious to get home now to  wash my hands and leg. Then I looked down and my right shoe had a big splat of poop on it. Gross. How did that get there? A few steps more and I realized I now had it on my shorts too.  Then it dawned on me - there was a hole in that bag I'd been so proud of myself for using!

It's a beautiful May Saturday! Cool and sunny, perfect for a long walk in the neighborhood with Toby. After my Jazzercise workout, shower, and breakfast, we set out for our urban hike. I had the requisite brown plastic shopping bag in my pocket for Toby's inevitable bathroom break. 


It's so funny to watch him decide which mailboxes, light posts, grass clumps, or bushes need a sprinkle to let other dogs know he's been there. He'll spend up to a minute (if we let him) sniffing. What can possibly be so interesting to sniff for that long? The experts say dogs can determine the sex, age, diet, and dominance quotient of all the other dogs who've been by just by sniffing their pee. After his investigation Toby might lift his leg and add his own information to the collection. On the other hand, he's just as likely to trot away, as if that particular spot wasn't worthy of his valuable urine.

Toby doesn't do headstands though.

Similarly, Toby will put his nose to the grass like a bloodhound, sniffing mightily as he walks along. When he starts doing this, we know it's almost time to use that plastic bag. He might do this for an entire block. Suddenly he plants his feet and sweeps his nose from side to side. He may turn in a few circles, still sniffing. Apparently his poop must be dropped in precisely the proper spot. How does he decide where that spot is? Why does it matter so much? I think we'll never really understand some of the things dogs think are important. I wonder which of the things I'm picky about are baffling to Toby. Does he think, "Really, guys? Another shower? What's this boring obsession with cleanliness?"


As I picked up Toby's doggie poo (one of the few truly unfortunate obligations of owning a dog) I noticed that he had a touch of diarrhea. Probably he's been eating or licking the numerous toads that live in our back yard. A bit farther down the street at the neighborhood park I dropped his waste into a trash can. We continued down the street and a few minutes later a white plastic shopping bag blew across the sidewalk in front of us. I hate litter, especially those bags, so I picked it up and put it into my pocket.


We turned into the home stretch, just about a half mile to go. The sun was warm, there was that new-mowed grass smell everywhere, and in our neighborhood there is a lot of pride in colorful flowers and attractive landscaping. Wherever there were sprinklers operating, Toby pulled at the leash to get at 'em. He loves to bite the jets of water. All of a sudden, in one of those yards where the grass is PERFECT, Toby's nose went back down into bloodhound position. Twice in one walk!


Ordinarily this would be a disaster. Socially, because of course everyone hates it when someone leaves their dog's poop steaming in other people's yards. Ethically, because when you live in the Chesapeake Bay watershed, "the number one problem of the Bay is Number Two"! (The advertising of local conservation groups to convince folks living along the Lynnhaven River to pick up the dog waste have been a big part of Lynnhaven oysters being fit for consumption for the first time in years.)


But this time, I could pull the white bag from my pocket, smugly congratulating myself on my cleverness. Who says good deeds aren't rewarded?  Scooping away, Toby's mess was really runny this time. Yuck. I tied off the bag and we set off again, almost home. 
Ewww! Somehow I'd gotten some of it on my calf! I walked a little faster. I was anxious to get home now to  wash my hands and leg. Then I looked down and my right shoe had a big splat of poop on it. Gross. How did that get there? A few steps more and I realized I now had it on my shorts too.  Then it dawned on me - there was a hole in that bag I'd been so proud of myself for using!