What's grosser than gross?

This story that's what fools. Okay, after a visit with the folks, I was enlightened to learn that not everyone in my family appreciates a good poo sharing story. Sure, sure who wouldn't but in the end, everyone poos so who gives a crap really? This time the object of my betrayal will be the once family pet, Scooter.
Scooter was a red/brown dachshund and he was awesome. Small but mighty, he defended my honor many a time Mr. X (family friend who's name was changed to protect his identity) got handsy with his tickling. Scooter would lose his shit with every jab that came at me. In fact, Scooter was so incensed with Mr. X that one time he hopped on the couch and dropped a steaming pile right in his lap, ploop ploop. And that my friends, was the sound of sweet, sweet victory. While my dad apologized profusely, I snuck Scooter treats and praised him for doing such an awesome feat. It's not every dog that can poo on command while running across a couch.
As you might be able to tell, Scooter wasn't well trained but he was fun and I loved him. Sure, he'd leave a steaming pile of poo outside my bedroom door but guess what, I deserved to for not walking him. Scooter had other talents besides pooping on things, but I thought I'd share his stealth poo dropping story before getting to the really gross stuff. And it makes a nice segway from last week's story to this week's.
Scooter had this problem. Well, I mean, not really a problem as much as it was a condition, which seems weird seeing how a lot of people do something like it everyday. You see, how do I say this? Um, Scooter was a masturbator. Every night after his dinner he'd go back to his bedroom (I never said my dog didn't have manners) to relax, digest and lick himself. Eeek!! I know! But a lot of dogs do that. It's called cleaning, except my dog took his "cleaning" a little too far one time. Perhaps it had something to do with the fact that only one of his doggie testicles dropped. Yep, my dog was a one-baller.
After he'd had his "cleaning time" I'd take him for a walk, I guess it's the dog equivalent of smoking a cigarette. Well, this one evening I went back to get Scooter and I couldn't believe what I saw. It was like his lipstick was totally out of it's packaging. Yep, it was like that. Seeing how I was only 12, I had no idea what I was looking at and I can't say that I'd even know today. It was strange. Strange enough for me to run and get my mom.
Once I got her back in the room, she took one look ushered me quickly out of there and yelled for my dad. Next thing I knew, they were wrapping him up in his blanket and driving off to the emergency vet's. The state of panic left me feeling uneasy and unsure if I'd ever see Scooter again.
Two hours later they arrived with Scooter. He was fine. Turns out he had a little too much fun with himself and "somehow" got his lipstick to fall out of it's packaging. All the vet had to do was stick a needle in his buttocks, suck out a little juice and the lipstick went back no problemo. At least that's what my parents told me and honestly, that was enough.
Scooter stuck around for five more years before we made the move from Virginia to Missouri. He was a great, loyal dog who found a happy new home with a family that already had one dachshund. I like to think he moved in there and showed that other dog some new tricks.