A Seussian story about cat poop. Yes, I went there.

One poop, two poops, firm poop, runny poop,

Black poop, brown poop, old poop, new poop.

From there to here, from here to there,

Poopy piles are everywhere.

Here are some more because Scout ate chicken

Don’t let him eat more! He’ll again be sickened.
 

Some piles have two pieces and some have four.
How am I ever going to clean my poor, poor floor?

Where will we next find it? I can’t exactly say.
No place is sacred, it just depends on the day.

 

Be it hardwood or carpet or porcelain tile,

Scoutie plays no favorites … he poops with a smile.

I come through the door, and what do I smell?

Oh good! More poop! Another fresh hell.

Down on my knees I scrub, scrub, scrub,

And try not to vomit in the tub, tub, tub.

Oh me! Oh my!
What a lot of poopy things see I.

 

No matter my day’s agenda,

I cannot be a quitta’.

 

I’ve got to keep spraying and rubbing and rinsing

In the hopes that my Scoutie doesn’t come up missing.