Here Woody is looking fanciful under my bedroom curtains just yesterday evening. (Ok, Cara, where is this going?) Now, I am not under the diluted impression that I will be able to compare my love for Woody to my love for SJ. While Woody is my fur baby, he will always be just that. He's not my blood, or the fruit of--ick--calling anything "the fruit of..." weirds me. Anyway, I KNOW he's just a dog and this blog is about me and my pregnancy and baby news. But I was given a glimpse into POO-HORROR this evening and I can't help but think that it helped prepare me for motherhood.
It is Wednesday, which means bible study. From 6:30-8 we have social dining with our group. We all bring a dish that goes with the main course and we enjoy each others' company. Then we sing worship songs to guitar accompaniment by none other that Yours Truly. We then do our study discussion, pray, eat dessert and disperse. Well, it was around 10 pm that we returned home this evening. And when Texan and I opened the door to our doggy den we were horrified to smell and see the utter crap-fest. One dog (it was hard to tell who because they both looked so ashamed) had emitted explosive diarrhea out the front of the cage. Ok, at least he aimed properly. It was also in the cage and all over his hind parts. We were immediately on red alert. Texan put the dogs in the yard and took the bottom cover out of the kennel out to spray with the hose. I scrubbed the carpet with a 409 carpet solution, bleached the rubber mat that lines the floor beneath the cage (thank God for that) and then brought both dogs in for baths. After which, I foolishly set them free in the house. (Do you detect a hint of foreshadowing?) To our dismay, the house still absolutely WREAKED. So I got out a bucket of soapy hot water and again scrubbed the carpet, then covered it in baking soda and went outside to bleach the cage tray. Upon my return, I found that Woody had leaked AGAIN. Only this time, on our bedroom carpet. Now it was nearing 11:30 and Texan was in bed studying (ignoring my hardship). I put Woody back out and went to town on our bedroom carpet. Then I ran a bleach load of laundry, a hot load of any towel I may have dried my hands on, bleached the tub where I had bathed the dogs, and disinfected every door knob. And wait! Then I scrubbed Woody's bum until it turned red and banished him to the non-carpeted areas of the house. (Cara, why not leave him in the yard?) Woody hates solitude. Trust me. he was outside for most of my cleaning process, but after his bath i wanted him mostly dry before going back outside. At 1 am I finally laid down. Sweet mother of Abraham Lincoln, I am quite exhausted. I didn't mention that in the midst of this I still had to pack a lunch, do dishes, put away clean laundry, and mend texan's work pants. (Why so many holes in this one pair of jeans? I sew them weekly. Always a new hole.) And, oh yeah! Allow me to recap what Texan did after being so helpful initially. He walked around the house saying, "It smells," and "where is a candle?" I gave him a linen-scented candle and a mocha one. "But I don't like Mocha," he said. "It's better than POOP!" I replied with quite a but of sting. After lighting them, he went into our bedroom closet and said, "MMMM, the closet doesn't stink." That's when he crawled into bed. I don't blame him after a long day of work. But it didn't seem quite as funny at the time. You may say, that evening is nothing compared to--SHHHHHH. Let me have my moment.
Selfies :)
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