I still love 'm, but...(read at own risk)

Now they've really done it. :doh:

Oh my. I still gag thinking about it and I have the bucket right here next to my chair, just in case...:curtain:

so Mama took Garp and Pud for a romp on the tundra. While Mama plays frisbee w. Pud, Garp is garping around, like he does, and stops to eat or lick or investigate s.th. on the ground. No big deal, possibly some muskox poop or a bone or whatnot.:gotme:

So the Pud gets interested in what Garp has and joins him to investigate. Mama goes over there to have a look. :curtain:

The horror will be with me for the rest of my life. :yuck: Mama stood there for a whole minute not comprehending what she saw. Garp was enjoying what was clearly a specimen of a male human undergarment, filled with about half a gallon of....oh no...

:vomit::vomit::vomit::vomit:

....uuuugh, pardon me, I had to be excused for a second...I cannot say it....but let me just put it this way: I'm a biologist; I've cleaned up the poop of many a species from newts to muskoxen, wiped their little butts and shoveled their little turds out of their pens, but there's something about the liquefied excreta of your OWN species that is just....oh dear...

:vomit::vomit::vomit::vomit:

...okay, I'm back. It had chunks in it, too..:yuck:..and Garp had been eating it for, like, 5 minutes!! And now the Pud was fetching it from him and was making off with it across the tundra - oh, the prize! :yipee: She was soo proud, tail high in the air like a flag pole - yum! :crazy: Doesn't this child receive 2 square, delicious, specially prepared, nutritionally balanced meals a day? :no: Hell, no, she has to "supplement" with...:vomit: ... I can't say it...

So what to do? Mama's first impulse was to put the two of them in a box and mail them to China. :banghead: Of course, that would be very rude to the Chinese.

So Mama threw them in the back of the car, drove them home (feeling the whole time the distinct presence of an uninvited fourth person in the car :yuckand tied them up in the yard till she had a bucket of hot soapy water, some rubber gloves, and her rain gear on, and then they endured w. great stoic dignity (where was that dignity out there on the tundra, huh? Huh, children?!) while Mama gave them, their feet, necks, and mouth a thorough scrubbing, involving an old toothbrush and several rags which went straight to the trash afterwards.

Now you may wonder how such a nefarious illegal item came to be found on the pristine Arctic tundra. :gotme: This question shall forever remain unanswered, although several hypotheses are possible given the following piece of information:

Nome has been described as a "drinking town w. a fishing problem", and it's not unusual to encounter well hydrated individuals wandering from the downtown watering holes :bowl: until they find themselves on the frozen tundra miles from the nearest public toilet.

And that's all that shall be said about that.