Humans of FHC: Grant Coughlin


I was coming back from my grandma’s house. I was probably five or six years old. The week before, we were talking to my parents about getting a dog, and my dad said ‘No, end of story.’ So we get back home from my grandma’s house one night, and we walk into our house. We see my mom sitting on the couch with [our new dog] Gus on her lap. It was amazing.

One time, I had my friend over for my birthday party. He was going to stay the night, and my mom wasn’t home. We let Gus out, and he came in about an hour latera�� covered in poop. I don’t even know what happened to him. He was outside, and he must’ve rubbed his head in the poop; it was on his ears and all over his body. It was awful. At first, we didn’t even know it was poop. I thought it was mud, so I went down to pet him. My hand got all disgusting. We had to call my mom, and she had to come home. She tried to get Gus into the tub, but he hates water; it took three or four hours to wash him off.”