Ah, joyful dog ownership.
I came downstairs last night planning on heading to bed – actually sort of early for me, 9:50 p.m.! As I hit the last stair I smelled an AWFUL stench. So bad I actually looked on the floor for dog poop.
OH NO. “What happened?”
“Your dog.”
“Huh?”
“I let them out & she ran out front & ate cat crap.”
“Wow. It’s AWFUL.”
Scrambling ensued, as we tried to find the giant CostCo can o’ Lysol. Polly was banished to the living room & James paraded through the house, spraying disinfectant.
“I can’t believe it smells this much!” I said, tossing Polly two “Yip Yap” dog breath fresheners.
“This is an emergency!” James declared, still pressing down the nozzle & eradicating germs everywhere.
So he trundled off to bed & I decided to hang out & wait for the smell to die down. I finished the “Grim Grotto”, by Lemony Snickett, and around 10:30, called Polly to go to bed. As I headed into our bedroom in the dark, the stench hit me again, like a 2×4 cracking me across the nose. “Sheesh!” I thought, and leaned down to find her collar to “click” her in (we prevent night wanderings by keeping her on a leash, tied to the window.) My hands found stiff, icky fur.
OH hell. She didn’t eat cat poop, she found a new dog poop cologne, and bathed in it.
Back to the bathroom. The smell was gageriffic. 30 minutes later she was clean, towel-dried, and I was ready for bed with a vengeance.
The joys of dog mommyhood. Just as poop-filled as regular people parents.
Oh, how horrific!
Isn’t it amazing, though, how instant the gratification is, when you just take care of it?
So much for getting to bed early, though.