Ah, simple pleasures. Whenever Crawford manages to poop outside, we are elated. "Crawford had a peepee and a poopoo outside this morning, daddy!" "She's a good girl, mommy!" (Somewhere along the way, when it comes to the pets, we began to converse like Nancy and Ronnie Reagan.) Crawford can't really feel when the poopies are coming out, but walking around in the grass for awhile at certain times of the day helps to ensure "love dumps" as we call them in the grass , not on the rug . It helps , but there really are no guarantees. Still, she's a good girl and we love her and it's only poop. Shit. Everyone poops. With our acid rain here in windward Hawaii, we have learned that it is unwise to drink our catchment water. The acid comes from Pele, as she spews forth noxious chemicals from her volcanic bowels. Those chemical then rain down and flow into our tank. The water must also be treated with very small amounts of chlorine to kill...