My kid was having trouble making it to the bathroom before he pooped his pants. I was always telling him “If you need to go potty, just put down what you’re doing and go. Whatever it is can wait” I guess he took that to mean he was in trouble, despite the fact I stressed time and time again that I wasn’t upset. So one day he comes streaking into the living room, naked from the waist down, and starts excitedly telling me this long and involved story about how he was in the bathroom minding his own business. When suddenly the dog kicked in the door, ripped his pants off, attacked him, and pooped in his pants that were laying on the floor. The dog in question is a 16 year old blind and deaf chihuahua btw.
Wish I could remember the whole story he told me. It was hysterical.