I came home from work today, hauling in tons of clothes from the cleaners. I opened the door, and out bounded Zack the Wonder Dog. He was wayyyyy too happy to see me, and I knew it. He was trying to tell me something.
As I crossed the threshold of my front door, I figured out why.
Zack had accidents. And yes, I mean accidents, in the plural. Of the poopy, runny kind.
Have I told y’all that our house is 100% tiled, and there is a reason for it? Well, it’s the dogs. Not because of accidents, but because it’s easier to clean up the hair they shed and the mud they track in. Zack has had one prior accident in this house, and by no means was it accidental. He was getting back at me for putting a dog kennel in my truck and leaving without him in it. Zack somehow knew I was going to pick up another puppy, and paid us back in spades. Today, this wasn’t the case - it seems he had an upset stomach.
My dog is a cultured dog, however. Then, and now, he picked his places to poop. And, again, yes, I mean places.
We have a huge brown and white sculptured zebra rug under our dining room table. it is beautiful. Zack must have had a desire to keep within the color scheme, if you know what I mean.
ThatManILove called me and told me he was heading home. I started cleaning more furiously, hoping against hope to have it all done within the hour. As I clean, I find more and more poop.
For the last hour, I have been crawling around with the Oxy-Clean and wet rags and cleaning up poop stains from my rug. I’ve had to use an old toothbrush to get some of it up. And to top that, ThatManILove just came in from the field after a 36 hour day with no sleep, and he’s running the FloorMate (Oh, let me count the ways I love him? He won’t let me do that, he thinks he’s the FloorMate King.)
All the while, Zack...sleeps. Snoring and snuffling. On the big sectional couch. You see, all is well in his world. He has his masters attending to his every desire.
A dog’s life is as it should be. Lord help me quick, where’s the Febreze?