Well I thought Saints held this title (and Carol was the annointed Poopimus Maximus), but in the last 24 hours I have stolen the crown and my house has become the House at Poop Corner.
Isaac is very ill. I came home to one dead-to-the-world dog (which gave me a moment of severe anxiety until I saw the tail give a feeble wag), and stains all over the carpet. Before he could reach the back door, sh*tspolsion happened. I didn't know one could end up with poop four feet up the walls, all over the fridge and washer and dryer, all over one's self, and across three rooms, all within a 60 second episode.
He slept in the little mud room last night -without pacing for a change - but had another episode during the night. I will be taking him to the vet today. At the moment he is up and pacing and wondering why I'm not letting him on the carpet. He is such a trooper, but is breathing heavily, and his liver may be failing. I think his time is very near. Please keep him in your thoughts.