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We're a dog-friendly bookstore here. As a matter of fact, we put out a dog bowl of water everyday and I keep dog treats under the counter. It's just how we are (yes, this IS a cool bookstore, we know...).

The temperature has been in the 90s here. I get a call and a customer asks, "If we come to the store and bring our dog, do you mind if we bring him in the store?" I answered, "No, of course not. We're dog friendly here" (plus I would cringe at someone bringing their dog then leaving it in the car with the windows rolled up in this heat). Now, I made two very important, seemingly innocent assumptions:

1. That the dog was potty trained.
2. That the dog's "parents" were semi-intelligent human beings.

They bring a homely little dog in here, but hey, I don't discriminate, so I gave the animal as much attention as I give others. The dog runs around the store as the owners look at books. The next thing I know, the male owner is yelling the dog's name and the female owner is dragging him out the door. Before the male owner could get out the full sentence of "Do you have any paper towels?" I already knew. I couldn't see, but I could smell why he needed paper towels. The foul odor penetrated our store and rested upon every surface (including my tongue) in just a matter of seconds.

And, let me tell you, this wasn't just any usual dog bowel movement (I have dogs, I consider myself well versed in the subject) -- this was a big pile/puddle of runny dog poop creating a growing 6-inch diameter on my carpet. I watched in awe/disbelief/revulsion as the male dog owner scrubbed this runny mess into my carpet while I was trying not to gag from the smell.

After all was said and done, the male owner looks at me and says,
"Huh. That's weird. He does this ALL THE TIME at home, too."