*Author's Note II: Your comments amused me so much I laughed so hard I choked. Having put my lungs back in my body, I thought maybe I should add that growing up with a mom who has always worked in the medical field in one capacity or another has made me rather thick skinned to petty things like poop, and boogers, and blood or anything else gross you can think of. Eating dinner she will tell us a story about some old guy's diarrhea, or someone being so constipated they needed.... well, never mind what they needed. Its pretty gross. So I enjoy a good bodily-function-related story as much as a teenage boy does -- farts will always make me laugh, sadly. *Sigh* Sometimes I wish I was more of a lady, but then somebody will toot and I lose it.
*Author's Note: I posted this on my other blog too, but felt it needed to be shared with more than just my family. I have a blog brewing right now, it may be ready later today or maybe tomorrow. But until then, I hope the following does not happen to you.
I love having help around the house. It gives me warm fuzzies that I can't even begin to put words to. Like yesterday, my little sister ran the vacuum and folded laundry while I was napping (on the couch but slept through it as always). Her bf/f took out the trash and put some of his stuff around the house away. It was GREAT! But I don't really need help cleaning the cat boxes; I have it down to a science and can clean those things in a few minutes flat. Apparently the little dog didn't get the memo. This was mostly my own fault: I forgot to put the kid gate back up to block the basement from the dogs. My dog, old and set in his ways, doesn't venture into the basement. He is not overly fond of stairs and knows that it is usually blocked off so any efforts to get down there are futile. Besides, there is a couch to hold down and that is more important that what the cats are doing down there. But not the new little dog. He is such a pot-bellied pig he scrounges for food constantly. We think his food issues stem from his puppy hood. He and his litter mates were kept in a chicken wire cage and were rescued by the Humane Society. He has scars from where the chicken wire rubbed up against him and we think food was scarce and that is why he is so aggressive about food. So me forgetting the kid gate + full cat boxes that the dogs see as horderves = one little dog with the SH*TTIEST breath you can imagine. Literally. My little sister came home from work last night and was greeted at the door by the dogs. I was laying in bed reading (the new Eragon; I'm an addict) when she came home. As soon as she was in the door she barked out, "What smells like CAT SH*T in here?!" I figured the cat boxes must be worse than usual, even though it is not time to change them. She brought home Taco Bell, which is the only thing that could possibly pry my butt out of bed at that time, so I went to scavenge off of her. While we were sitting at the table, the two dogs were panting at our feet; panting the most horrendous odor of cat turds that almost made me lose my appetite. We sniffed towards the big dog; just regular dog breath. We sniffed towards the little dog and he panted cat poop in our faces, just about knocking us out and making us vomit at the same time. My little sister asked if I had put the kid gate back up after doing laundry, and we soon discovered why the little dog snacked out of the cat boxes like they were a delicious buffet. I stuffed his butt in his kennel -- no way he was sleeping in my bed with that breath! -- and felt like I needed a hot shower and a tub full of bleach. That is one chore I do not want help with and I hope to never smell anything that horrible ever again!
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