Mudd Butt(Cam Rascoe) Mudd Butt

This time it started like all the others, with a story. A sad tale about how the Lord saw fit to spare the poor life of an animal unwanted and unloved by this cruel world. I am the writer but oh can my family members weave wonderfully sorrow filled tales of rescue and redemption in the effort to bring yet another pet into our love filled home. The operative word being filled, a family with six children and over a dozen pets is never in need of another yet is always in need of another.

Our dozen is down from over two dozen at our peak some three years ago. Fire Belly Toads, three bearded dragons, a shark, catfish, Oscars, an assortment of other cichlids, barbs, tetras, gourami and plecostomus sucking the bottoms of aquariums have been pets in our home. A parakeet, four different breeds of aquatic turtles, eight turtles in all have called our house home. Hamsters, hermit crabs, snails both aquatic and land have resided here as well. I list all of these animals to express the point clear if not exhaustively that we do not need anymore pets!

The stories, I have been told stories of animals thrown out of cars in burlap bags only to be rescued by a member of my extended or immediate family. There once was a three day old kitten that lost its mother and brothers under the wheels of an uncaring and careless driver being kicked along the sidewalk by a group of mischievous boys in the hood. That kitten is now a cat named Zues who rules over a territory in our quiet suburban community. A year later after days of prodding and casual conversations about puppies and the cruelty of some pet owners I was offered the ultimate tale of survival. I knew what it was leading to but I played dumb knowing I was powerless to stop it. I always am.

A pug mother had a litter of puppies and tried to keep them safe and warm. She tucked them in tight. In her attempt to love strong she caused the death of almost all of her litter less one. Smothered, while slumbering the sweet babies were, in the dead of night, while mom dreamed of meaningful mothering. The next morning the runt of the litter awoke in a cage all alone minus his mother and siblings. Confused and distraught he whined and cried even after being fed. Mama cried and whimpered in her cage minus her litter suffering from canine depression.

A tear jerker, this is true but then again I don’t know if the tragic story I have been told is reality or fiction. All I know is that I was powerless to stop my family from introducing yet another pet into our home. There he was a nine week old puppy, half Chihuahua, half Pug that looked like a little Rottweiler. There was a Chihuahua that resided among us already named Lexi. Lexi is a long haired Chihuahua quite the fighter; unfortunately she would always be a contender, never a champion. She loved each of our family members and not many others. Queen Lexi was not very welcoming to the new puppy initially; she had just gotten adjusted to having a kitten in her kingdom a year earlier.

After a week or two she warmed up to the little half Pug the wife and kids named Chico. Lexi loved on him the same way she did the kitten by sparring with him nonstop. Zues now a full grown cat had out grown Lexi’s sparring matches due to size and maturity. Now Zeus used his energy to rough up rival feral cats in the community and hunt rodents, birds and Florida reptiles and amphibians. Zeus didn’t care for another male in the house because of his smells, Chico smells. Eventually Zeus would warm up to his little brother and playfully stalk Chico like Lexi once did him.

Again Chico smells! The first thing I learned about my new family pet was that he had digestive issues; the puppy produced and excessive amount of poop and in his slumber he released toxic gasses. I couldn’t understand how a dog so small could produce a turd so large. Potty training came slow with Chico; he’s not the brightest dog. My wife’s excuse for him is that he lost oxygen to his brain during the tragedy, which made him a little slow. When he wasn’t pooping, he was pooting and the kids told me just how bad it was but I thought as usual they were exaggerating. Then it happened. I was sitting in the living room watching a sporting event when the puppy decided to nap on the sofa cushion next to me. Quietly he slept breathing in and out, his chubby puppy belly rising and falling.

Suddenly my nose was treated to the most awful stench I had ever encountered. I stood and looked around to see if something was burning in the kitchen because I couldn’t place the horrible scent. Just as soon as I settled back in, there it was again. It smelled like sulfur, hot garbage, toe jam, old cabbage with a twist of decaying vermin. I called my wife into the room.

“Have you smelled this stankin’ booty dog yet?! The kids told me he stank but my goodness what in the world?!”

My outburst awakened Chico from his peaceful sleep and my wife ran to gather him in her arms.

“Awe Chico your daddy is being mean and talking bad about you.”

She always addresses him first, me second.

“Cam stop, he has digestive issues. He’s only a baby; stop being so mean to the baby.”

“Baby, he smells like an old man, a dead old man.”

I received a slap on the shoulder for my rude comment.

“Stop being so nasty to little Chico Bean. C’mon Baby.”

She carried him off to our bedroom and left me behind to my ballgame. He left something behind as well, another disgusting fart bomb. When she was out of earshot I took one last shot at her precious Chico.

“His butt is nasty; he’s got the Mudd Butt!”

As time went on I learned more about young Chico and why he smelled so bad. He ate garbage, as much as he could find. He ate plenty of food and bones too but he balanced it out with a healthy serving of trash. Whenever Zues would leave to go back out into his wild kingdom known as our neighborhood Chico would get into his feeding bowl eating wet and dry cat food. He developed a real taste for the stuff, so much so that we stopped buying him puppy food.

As a puppy Chico’s fur was shining, silky and black with brown markings on it. As he aged and got closer to three months old his hair became course and musty. He has a smell about him; the dog always smells like outdoors even when he has been inside all morning. His breath I have never smelled but it has been described to me by some of our children and I know exactly why.

“Ewe Dad his breath smells like poop.”

“Well, why do you always smell the animals’ mouths and butts? I have never smelled any of them because I don’t let them get in my face.”

One day I was home alone with the animals and I was warned by my wife to take good care of her baby. Lexi had been side eyeing me all morning long and I tried to explain to her that I had nothing to do with bringing this little nasty beast into our home that was now stealing attention from her. As I was talking to Queen Lexi, Chico Bean walked into the room and I asked what he was up to. Then I looked down at him and his nose was covered with white stuff. I thought maybe he was ill and had dried snot on his nose, so like a good daddy I wiped it.

A day later I saw the same thing, his little black nose covered in white so again I wiped it. I was starting to gain sympathy for the stinky little creature until I learned where the white around his nose was coming from. I caught him rooting around in the kitty litter box trying to find an afternoon snack. Chico is a poop eater! That gross little… Fortunately Zeus does most of his business outside. He walks with us when we’re walking the dogs then digs a hole and does his business. When he’s done he covers it up then runs to catch up with us. But if ever he uses that litter box Chico goes looking for a meal.

The animals sleep in our bed, Zeus too when he decides not to spend the night roaming his kingdom. Lexi is an athletic little dog; she jumps right up into our bed and tucks herself under the covers. If I am sitting in a bar stool at our counter top she’ll even leap up there into my lap. Run fast; fight hard Lexi, run fast and fight hard. Of course Zeus can climb the highest of trees and I often find him on our neighbors’ roofs. Not Chubby Chico. He just sits at the base of the bed and whines until someone picks him up. By the time he was five months he out weighed Lexi by eight pounds but she still ran faster and dominated him in every fight. He does most of his battle from his back.

I always warn my wife to be careful how she picks his fatt mudd butt up. I don’t want her throwing her back out. No matter what, he has got to be near her, between us. I want to be near her too, she is a lovely lady. One night Chico happened to be sleeping at the foot of the bed, Lexi was tucked under her covers and Zeus was on the prowl. I reached over and gently rubbed my wife’s shoulder as she dosed off. In her sleep she called out quietly.

“Chico?”

I responded quickly.

“No, this ain’t no damn Chico!”

She promptly took my hand and threw it off of her. Then she awoke halfway realizing what she had done so she grabbed my hand back quickly and appeased me with a fib.

“I just wanted to hold your hand.”

I didn’t say anything back; I just lay there quietly and held her hand until she dosed back off. As soon as I heard the first sounds of sleep I eased my hand away from her grip. I wasn’t in the mood for pity hand holding. Just as I turned off the television and rolled over to go to sleep. I smelled a familiar smell. Mudd Butt was at it again; no sound just an awful funk. He didn’t stir or budge, he just followed it up with another silent but deadly cloud of butt smog as he drifted off to thoughts of eating garbage and burying bones.

Chico is not very fast or swift compared to the athletic Lexi, neither could he jump very high. He runs his fastest when doing figure eights around the yard while playing with himself. I wonder sometimes who he is chasing or who is chasing him, dumb dog. My wife tells me he is playing with the spirits of his lost siblings. She can make anything about her precious Chico seem cute or endearing. The one thing he can do is dig, dig deep. Our once flourishing backyard now has random holes and divots everywhere. There is no shortage of poop either. The dogs go on regular walks but he defecates so often that sometimes you just have to let him out in the backyard. So in the backyard he will go, sometimes just after taking a long walk and relieving himself twice. Garbage in, garbage out, I know the trash and feces he eats have to be affecting his digestive system but I can’t get him to stop. He’s just disgusting.

I shouldn’t spit, it’s nasty, but sometimes you just have to get it out. As soon as it hits the concrete there Chico is licking it up. It seems the only time that he is quick is when he is trying to ingest something gross. On walks he walks behind Lexi often lapping up her urine off of blades of grass. I know he’s trying to cover her scent but it’s still just yuck!

Just the other day my wife let him out of the sliding glass door to our master bedroom. He immediately found one of his favorite holes and started digging. He was joined by his older siblings, Lexi and Zeus. They worked in shifts digging and ripping out roots. Apparently they were hunting something. I sat up at the foot of my bed and looked curiously at what they were doing. My wife was sitting in a patio chair enjoying her first cup of coffee, reading her morning devotional and scripture. I eased back into bed and suddenly she let out a scream. I jumped out of bed to see what was going on. There it was a mole, writhing in pain, struggling to stay alive as each of our pets took a taste of him.

Lexi after one taste knew that it was not appetizing to her, Zeus determined the same. That Chico Bean seemed to enjoy the taste. My wife quickly came to the rescue of the dying critter, shooing our pets away, shoveling it up and tossing it over a fence. I asked if she was alright and she was, a little grossed out but fine. So after the morning’s excitement I eased back into bed still fatigued from a long night of writing. I drifted back off and was soon deep asleep. I was awakened slowly by a wetness around my armpits, in the nape of my neck and as I turned over, on the back of my neck. I heard a snorting noise like a pig would make.

As I opened my eyes there he was; Chico right in my face. He tried to give me a lick; I dodged his stinky breath and nasty tongue. Then it dawned on me why that breed of dog was named a Pug, because they were like pigs. Their noses were more snouts than nose and they made those grunting, snorting almost oinking noises. Lastly they seemed to love filth, mammal waste and garbage. The dog swine Pugs are but there was something very special about ours that people just couldn’t resist. As much as I didn’t like about him and his nastiness, he was certainly growing on me but I wouldn’t admit it to anyone but myself.

That morning Chico was relentless trying to dig his head under my body, walking across me and nuzzling in my neck. He just wouldn’t stop, puppy wanted to play. Then he was upside down and I realize he had bat like features with his pointy ears and smashed in nose. That day he earned yet another nick name, “Bat Boy”. This little guy was full of surprises. He was winning; I was now fully awake wrestling with him and wrapping him in the covers. Full of energy, he just would not stop. I was now talking smack and laughing at him when my wife walked in from the backyard. I straightened up and spoke to her in a serious tone.

“Did you put this stankin’ booty dog in the bed with me? Get his butt out of here, you stink, Mudd Butt.”

My wife offered me a knowing smile. She wasn’t fooled by my tough talk.

“He wanted to spend some time with his daddy and you needed to spend some time with your baby boy. I heard you in here laughing, admit it you love him.”

I didn’t admit it, instead I got out of bed and he jumped down after me. I went into our master bathroom.

“I need to shower to get his stink off of me. I’m going to change those sheets too.”

I slid the sliding glass door to the shower closed and turned on the water. I heard her call for Chico Bean and the other animals so that she could feed them breakfast. As the warm water cascaded over my body I just shook my head and smiled to myself.

“He got me, that little stankin’ booty dog got me. I love that disgusting little dog just like everybody else, even though I still suspect he is trying to take my woman. He’s family, my son. That damn Mudd Butt Chico Bean.”

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