What a Stranger’s Dog Taking a Poo at the Pool Taught Me About Myself

“I’m George,” a burly man with a black ponytail and a bald spot on top of his head crushed my fingers in a firm handshake, “and that’s ’Roo.” The man gestured to a jet-black long-snouted dog whose tail was wagging as fast as windshield wipers in a downpour.

“He loves to swim!” George said as ’Roo flung himself into the water and paddled towards a bright yellow floating toy.

We were at the pool adjacent to the neighborhood rec center. Every Saturday morning, for the month of September, the Greene Street swimming pool was hosting “Doggy Days.”

Ever since she arrived, I’ve been wanting my service dog to learn to swim.

But though she’s half poodle, Serenity’s been reluctant to go into the water. So I watched in awe as ’Roo bounded in and out of the pool, swimming out to the deep end with no hesitation.

And Serenity?

She happily chased ’Roo poolside and then wagged her tail—rather sadly, I thought—when he threw himself in the water. She’d stop short, her nails gripping the edge of the pool, afraid to jump in.

Then ’Roo did something unanticipated. He sprang out of the pool, shook himself off, squatted on his back legs, and took a huge dump.