I probably shouldn't have taken Kevin for a walk right before the show, but I had my make-up on, my hair was done and we had 15 minutes before vocal warm-ups. What could possibly go wrong?
We were about 2 blocks from the theater when Kevin decided to poop.
He assumed "poop position" in the grass. I waited patiently. Then he jumped out of the grass like he'd been standing in a fire ant hill and started running in a circle.
Kevin moved to the middle of the sidewalk and resumed his position. I tried to be patient. Minutes passed.
I decided to lift his tail and take a peak.
"Kevin-push it out!," I encouraged. I waited a few more minutes. Nothing.
I took another look. He was giving birth to a reluctant turd.
All I could think about was the costumes. Three of the four people who hold him onstage are dressed entirely in white. This was serious!
Plus the clock was ticking!
"We have vocal warm-ups in 5 minutes, Kevin!" I reminded him. He looked over his shoulder at me pathetically.
A man walking down the street stopped to look. "You can't rush him" he advised. "Thank you," I said politely.
(and under my breath, "What are you, a stinkin' dog protologist?")
I took another look. It was so close to being delivered. All it needed was a little nudge.
Or some forceps.
I considered using a stick, but reconsidered. It couldn't be a messy delivery, with all those white costumes. It had to be clean.
I reached in my pockets in desperation. I found a Kleenex.
I took a deep breath, lifted his tail one last time and removed the troublesome turd.
Kevin immediately started prancing back to the theater as if nothing had happened. He actually looked back at me as if to say, "Hurry up, we have vocal warm-ups in 3 minutes."
There I was, holding the leash in one hand and a Kleenex full of dog poop in the other. I finally found a trash can and returned to the theater, a bit less composed than I had been at the start of the walk.
In contrast, Kevin was completely relaxed.
But most importantly, the costumes escaped completely unscathed.