I hurried home this morning after teaching a preschool gym class and jogging for 45 minutes. I was in a rush to clean my house a bit prior to my girlfriends arrival. I calculated that with a quick vacuum and using a wipie to spot clean the tile I could shove the nest of papers on my counter into a drawer, take a shower, and be springtime fresh for our soiree.
I entered my home and wanted to barf. The smell was toxic and smelled like seven unattended baby diapers got left under the couch - I have no baby in diapers. I quickly perused the rooms and hallways looking for a clue when suddenly chills ran down my spine and this thought came to mind. "What if the dog died and stuff oozed from his orifices?" He is 15 so this thought was not a stretch, even though he is in good health. What would I do with a dead dog when my friend and her baby were due to arrive in 40 minutes?
I glanced behind the sofa and saw the dog in a belly up position. No oozing was apparent, and as I bent down to check his breathing, his paw flinched. I didn't take the paw flinch as a sure sign so I checked his belly for any breathing motion. Praise the Lord, he was breathing. I now had to discover the culprit of the stench.
I walked down the hallway and discovered six, yes six pieces of Grade A, fresh, homegrown, dog poop. I was at T minus 30 minutes until my guests were arriving, and was smelling ripe myself. I woke the sleeping dog, kicked him outside (figuratively not literally) , and refrained from any reprimand since I noticed that his dog door was shut and he had been "locked in" the house. I spent the next 30 minutes cleaning carpet and placing candles in every room to mask the odor. Just as I was wrapping the cord on the vacuum cleaner my guests arrived.
My friend walked into the house and quickly noted, "Did you just workout?" (I was still in my jogging clothes since the shower taking was replaced with carpet cleaning and aerating my house.) "Well, not just, but if you smell something funky, just know that it is not me, it's dog poop." Too much information I'm sure.
I entered my home and wanted to barf. The smell was toxic and smelled like seven unattended baby diapers got left under the couch - I have no baby in diapers. I quickly perused the rooms and hallways looking for a clue when suddenly chills ran down my spine and this thought came to mind. "What if the dog died and stuff oozed from his orifices?" He is 15 so this thought was not a stretch, even though he is in good health. What would I do with a dead dog when my friend and her baby were due to arrive in 40 minutes?
I glanced behind the sofa and saw the dog in a belly up position. No oozing was apparent, and as I bent down to check his breathing, his paw flinched. I didn't take the paw flinch as a sure sign so I checked his belly for any breathing motion. Praise the Lord, he was breathing. I now had to discover the culprit of the stench.
I walked down the hallway and discovered six, yes six pieces of Grade A, fresh, homegrown, dog poop. I was at T minus 30 minutes until my guests were arriving, and was smelling ripe myself. I woke the sleeping dog, kicked him outside (figuratively not literally) , and refrained from any reprimand since I noticed that his dog door was shut and he had been "locked in" the house. I spent the next 30 minutes cleaning carpet and placing candles in every room to mask the odor. Just as I was wrapping the cord on the vacuum cleaner my guests arrived.
My friend walked into the house and quickly noted, "Did you just workout?" (I was still in my jogging clothes since the shower taking was replaced with carpet cleaning and aerating my house.) "Well, not just, but if you smell something funky, just know that it is not me, it's dog poop." Too much information I'm sure.
Comments
I love reading your blog!!! It always brings a smile to my face.
Thanks for sharing your life...
Fay Slaybaugh