Water Dog FAIL

There is going to be a bit of a problem shortly, if things continue apace.  My dog hates getting her feet wet. Yes, my sweet lovable puppy, who by all accounts from the boarding place, “Jumped right into the pool and swam around with the other dogs and wasn’t the tiniest bit afraid,” who is going to be a great big enormous superintelligent dog, hates to get her poor *WEBBED* tootsies wet.

You know those lizards in Africa that dance around, lifting alternating feet to keep them from scorching on the searing rocks of the Saharan desert?  She does that.  And she stands on my feet, so HER feet don’t have to be on the wet horrible ground.  BUT!  First I have to coax and cajole and outright physically drag her butt outside so she can poop, because she’s been wandering around the house all puckerbutt for half an hour and sitting all pretty over by the door like she *wants* to go out, but when I put the leash on her she’s all, “Oh, sorry.  I forgot it was wets out.  I don’t like the wets on my toesies.  I’ll just poo on the floor.”

The part where this is going to be an issue is where we live in Florida.  For those of you who are not familiar, in the sub-tropical hell that is Central Florida from spring until fall it rains almost every day in the afternoon.  It’s like clockwork.  Raining?  Probably 3:30.  That’s when the dog goes out to poop.  Except now?  Now she’s going to require me to CARRY HER OUTSIDE AND SUCTION THE POOP FROM HER BOTTOM WHILE SHE LOUNGES IN THE COMFORT OF HER STEVEDORE’S LOVING ARMS.

Well, let me tell you something, pooch.  That’s not going to happen, because I am NOT building you a robotic sedan-chair carrying poop-suctioning dog maintenance robot.