The hounds here at Falling Downs are mighty particular about where they drop their doggie doo-doo. They've got a half acre of trimmed lawn at the edge of a hundred acres of cow pasture here, so guess where they wanna go? Right, the trimmed lawn.
Same when I walk them. Me and the hounds do two and a half kilometres up the Burgess side-road every morning. There's about fifty feet of trimmed lawn in front of McKay's place, and another fifty feet of trimmed lawn in front of Carter's place. So on a 5K walk, they've got a total of about 200 feet of manicured lawn vs. 4.99 kilometres of regular ditch wherein to do their business.
So where do they crap? On that minuscule patch of manicured lawn of course!
It's even more aggravating when we take them into town. We like to take them to the park out by the water treatment plant in Wiarton. That's a pretty sweet little spot; limestone cliffs all around you, the blue waters of Colpoys Bay in front of you, and a tiny patch of trimmed grass on the edge of a vast boreal forest.
So where do they shit? On that tiny patch of trimmed grass of course!
And they'll shit there even if they've already befouled McKay's lawn and Carter's lawn only an hour before!
What's really puzzling is that they'll do this even though they've proven time and again, on days we're out and about, that if they have to, they can go twelve hours or more without taking a shit in the house.
Here's my theory; in a dog's mind it's just more fun to shit where it maximizes the inconvenience to your so-called master.
It's part of the K-9 Passive Resistance Movement.