Six Times

(In Italian) “Do me this favor. I won't forget it. Ask your friends in the neighborhood about me.”

- Vito Corleone

Godfather II

            It rained, and I silently cursed Vito as he sniffed for the perfect spot to perform his FIFTH poop of the day. Somewhere before the clock strikes 12, there will be one more. Seriously, SIX times a day? That’s a bit high maintenance -- even for Vito.

            I asked the vet about this excessiveness, and he said that he just saw a boxer pup that goes eight times a day. All within the normal range, he said. You’ve got to be kidding, I said, but the vet ignored me.

            I guess I shouldn’t complain about six times. A typical dairy cow produces 148 pounds of manure per day. This has caused a big mess for a farmer in Indiana who owns 1,650 cows. He collects their manure in a lagoon, 21 million gallons of it. Bubbles – some 200 feet tall – have formed atop the brown, slurry pool. These bubbles are filled with gas, and they’re so big that you can actually see them in satellite photos.

            Anyway, the plastic liner under the lagoon has detached from the ground, and the farmer has to pop the poop bubbles before the manure pool overflows and causes a big stink. He plans to paddleboat across the lagoon and stick the suckers with a Swiss Army knife.

            But his neighbors are having a fit. They are worried that puncturing the bubbles could cause an explosion of manure and toxic gasses. Heck, I live in Michigan, and I just bought myself a gas mask in anticipation of the detonation.

             After I found out about the farmer and his angry neighbors, I began to worry about the people who live next door. We do pick up after Vito, but we’re not exactly obsessive-compulsive.

            I got paranoid about our yard filling with puppy methane gas bubbles. I checked the front and back, and thankfully we were clear. Then I asked our neighbor Richard if Vito’s multiple daily messes bothered him. Richard likes dogs and has had a ton of them. I figured he would tell me the truth if Vito’s routine were offensive.

            Richard just shrugged and said he didn’t smell anything. Then I drew on his vast experience with dogs, and I asked him if he had any answers as to why Vito went so much.

            He contemplated the question, and answered, quite philosophically.

            Well,” said Richard, “he just likes doing it.”

            Thank God he’s not a dairy cow.