So our dogs are house broken. They never go to the bathroom in the house, unless they are sick or we leave them alone for too long.
Well, Andrew wanted to sleep late today, so I slept in another room. Around 3 pm I had something I wanted to show him online, and I heard him cough, so I thought, “he’s waking up, I’ll go talk to him.”
I opened the bedroom door and said, “hey, are you- oh my god!”
When I opened the bedroom door, I was hit with a strong wave of overwhelming dog shit smell.
Andrew sits straight up in bed when I say “omg” And apparently has no clue what is wrong. The light from outside the room illuminates just a small triangle of floor, and there are splatters of brown in a trail.
I just stand there and stare at it for a minute.
And then I open the door wider, and say “the dogs had an accident. Don’t you smell that?”
He says “smell what?”
I point to the trail of dripped liquid poop stain on the ground. “There, look!” I turn on a light outside the room and point to a bigger liquid puddle at the foot of the bed.
I’m holding my shirt over my nose. Penny runs out past me and stands at the front door.
I turn on the light in the room, after walking gingerly through the literal minefield of shit and avoiding all spots, and reveal the accident.
If this was an accident, it was a train wreck. It’s the literal music video aftermath of Down With The Sickness.
As Andrew later said, it’s like Disturbed and Nirvana wrote a song together called Smells Like Teen Sickness.
Not only was there shit everywhere (remember we have cream carpet), there was a pile of vomit perfectly centered inside a coiled up belt of Andrew’s.
Then we found the closet.
Inside the closet was worse. There were at least 5 puddles of melted chocolate consistency wet and seeping into our carpet, 2 of them over a foot in diameter and 3 inches tall, piled up with non solid mess.
Our dog had an accident alright.
Penny is freaking out by the door, so I walk her, and after an agonizing long time she drops anchor with a large and solid deuce. So she isn’t the culprit.
So I take Sela out, and she drags me to the backyard and spews forth another surprisingly large amount of spoiled chocolate milk from her portal to hell. Because it looked like our bedroom was the scene of an exorcism and the demon was sela’s bowels.
Not to mention Andrew woke up surrounded by this and had to figure out how to navigate his way out of the bedroom barefoot.
After an hour of cleaning, we decided we needed a rug doctor.
Those things really work! $65 and an entire afternoon later, the floor looks clean, the dogs have both gotten baths, all their blankets and beds are through the washing machine, and most of their toys and a few of my books have been thrown in the trash due to collateral shittage, and we have every candle in the house lit, fans on, doors open, and still the smell lingers.
Andrew almost threw up when he went back in the bedroom after leaving it.
He still has no clue how he slept through all of what happened in there. I mean it must have sounded like someone was squeezing an empty ketchup bottle for at least 2 hours straight, much less the smell.
Anyway, wanted to tell you, because I don’t know anyone else we can tell. And plus, who would believe it? Or understand how MUCH there was.
I mean it looked like a crime scene but instead of blood it was feces. But not just a regular crime scene! No, it was the serial killer kind, think a dexter bathtub full of blood crime scene full of poo.
A war zone of shit.
A dogtastrophy.
It’s been a very long, very shitty day.
A painting I did.