Stink, Stank, Stunk

So let’s start this thing off with a bang, shall we?

The other night, hubby and I were getting our “snug on” (trademarked term) on the couch watching American Idol, waiting for The Office to come on. The puppy, Pinky, was lying at our feet sleeping sweetly. Filling a little chilly, I pulled a blanket over us and got a terrible whiff of doggie diarrhea. I mean it was hot, strong and dank, like sewage in the middle of summer. I started screaming and laughing and pointing at Pinky.

My hubby and I had covered our noses and began fanning the air. But “the stank” didn’t move, it lingered like a cloud of toxic waste: thick and slightly malevolent. I began checking all through the blanket to see if an actual turd would fall out of my covers. I mean, how it could smell this bad with out shit being among us?

We finally realized it was just a hot biscuit Stinky Pinky floated at us. We went back to tv watching.

Pretty soon, the smell hits us again. Like a brick. REALLY, Pinky!?!?! I start dragging her to the door but she didn’t want to go. The smell was like a fog encompassing us. My husband, knowing how susceptible I am to gagging, begins to make retching noises. At first I laugh at him and then I begin gagging as I push and drag the offender to the door deeply inhaling her stench. Finally I shove her hot little butt out the door and am walking back to the couch when I step in something wet. My legs reflexively collapse beneath me as I scream and laugh and gag in fear. I just know I have “found” the proverbial pile and can only lie on my back with my legs pointed at the ceiling. I am laughing so hard, I can’t breathe, which is a blessing.

Finally, I look at my foot and see no evidence of diarrhea. I get up and go to bed.

The next day, my husband, who is off of work, texts me that he has cleaned up massive amounts of dog “matter” from the kennel and that Pinkys’ stomach is making sounds like the Titanic going down!

She seems so innocent, right?

Pig Wrestling

I woke up 1:34 am and couldn't go back to sleep. It was pouring rain, again, as it had been on and off all day. I was so tired of this deluge which our area badly needed but I had been over for the last 18 hours.

Tossing and turning, I thought I heard the dogs barking. I got up to check at the back door but they weren't there. That is where they usually sit to make sure their demands to be let in are best heard.

I went back to bed but couldn't sleep worrying about them. It had rained so much, that the ground was either puddled into large lakes or pits of squishy mud. Their doghouse was empty, their covered porch was sans dogs, too. Where are they camped out? I wondered.

Finally I got up, grabbed two towels and went to each of our doors to look for them. I flipped on the light and they came running from some dark corner of the yard. I opened the door and immediately entered the First Annual Wet Pig Dog Wrestling Contest. Two dogs vs. One Lady. Two, wet, ecstatic, hyper dogs on carpet and me alone in my jammies with two towels. Apparently, I was not awake enough to think that one through before I opened the door.

After 5 minutes of me "ssshh"ing them and them flipping and flinging themselves about they were mostly dry and I was mostly wet. I got their crate ready by laying some snuggley towels in it. But now I wasn't sleepy and neither were they. So I changed my pants and we went to watch some bad late night television.

Needless to say I am working on 25% brain capacity after my late night canine shennanigans.