How Much Poo Is Too Much Poo?

Not to be too graphic or gross (I know, I'm laughing too) but Bubba set a new record today in the number of poos he had in our two walks. 5 1/2!!! Count 'em: FIVE and ONE HALF...One-two-three-four-five and a half...(this should be a Sesame Street song with pictures to go along - little poo piles).

Here's the poo story: So, Bub and I are walking at about 9 AM; barely out of the yard and he takes his usual stance (nice curved, perfectly rounded back, raised tail, eyes straight ahead, quivering hind legs) and lets loose his first poop. I proceed to pooper scoop. Then we walk to the next lot (three houses down from home) and Bubba takes a familiar stance: Poop number 2. Okay, my second to last bag goes to good use. So then, he switches sides and is walking in the middle of the street, looking around for squirrels, trotting along nicely when suddenly IN THE MIDDLE OF THE STREET and without warning, he squats AND POOS IN THE MIDDLE OF THE STREET!!! What can a mother do when her child does something crazy like this but laugh. So I did, while picking said poop up and Bubba and I continued our walk without another poop (thank God because I had no more bags left).

So, then, at 4 PM (in the heat of the day - what a good mother I am) I take the "kids" on their walks. First Sami (who had been sick all day) and then I took the boys together because I knew Bubba wouldn't handle another mile. So there we are: Zeke on my left, Bubba on my right, we're walking along, sweating our hangers off (notice use of new word) when Bubba suddenly veers to the grassy knoll of a neighbors front lawn and takes his familiar pose. Momma picks up his mess. Zeke patiently waits. We proceed. Not even one house later, Bubba runs back to the grass and suddenly squats. Poop number 5. Then, not two steps later, he squats again - nothing comes out. This can't be good...I know what this means: Dingleberries. So what does Bubba do? He heads out to the middle of the street, sits his brown-eye on the pavement and tiger-stripes the road. Picture it: Bubba, dragging his arse, back legs sticking straight out, moving in zig-zag lines aroung the street with his nose in the air, short little front legs going at top speed. Thank God my neighbors had just gotten home so they could witness what I'm sure they already knew: The crazy lady with the three dogs has lost her ever-lasting mind: She's just standing there in the middle of the road, laughing hysterically and yanking on her dogs leash while he tries to walk the other way, toward home. After all the pooping, the heat and the dingleberries to boot, Bubba wanted home. Who can blame him?

So I ask you: How much poo is too much poo? And, am I expected to clean up the tiger-stripes that Bubba has made in the middle of the street? And, do you think Zeke is embarrassed at all by what Bubba does? And, do you think that Bubba might be pooing so much just to watch me clean it up?