When I was a kid, I was doing my chore of picking up dog poop in the yard, and I found one that was very bloody. I went in and got my mom and showed her. She checked the dog, who seemed fine, but she said the poop probably meant it was very sick and needed to go to the vet right away. She went to get my dad and I went back to picking up poops. Behind the house, I found a chewed up tube of my mom's blood red oil paint.

Luckily I caught my parents as they were backing out of the garage with the dog.