I love my dogs. I really do. I love that they get so excited to see me. I love that they look at me as if I am a perfect human being. I love that they bark at strangers or the garbage man. I love them. Love can wear thin, however. It can be stretched to the breaking point. I do have my limit. My limit is poop.
After getting home in the wee hours of the morning, I let the dogs in the house so we could all get some rest. I thought, I can sleep past 5:30 since they've obviously been outside for a long time. They won't need to get up so early to "potty." My alarm awakened me at 7:15 to prepare for my glorious dentist appointment. As my eyes opened, my nose recognized that all-to-icky smell of dog poo. Wonderful. Lately, one of the dogs has been pooping on the rug in the dining nook. It's either Tula (the heeler) or Nigel (the schnauzer). Zen's poop is in a whole other category. It is EPA worthy. I have to stick cotton balls up my nose to deal with his poo. It's noxious, and nothing short of bleach can get the smell out of whatever it lands on. Anyway, back to 7:15 am. I knew that I had a problem. Dog poo from Zen and, as I discovered momentarily, another pile on the dining nook rug. This is not good. I have to go to the dentist, then the bank, and then I must have nap. So, I clean up the dining nook rug. No problem. I glance in the office, which is Zen's favorite place to poop. Piles of poo. Piles. I shut the door and stuff a towel underneath it to keep the smell from invading the house too much. Some of you might be thinking, it can't be that bad. Surely you are exaggerating. I would invite you over next time he has an accident and let you decide for yourself. Personally, I would rather pull out my own fingernails than smell it or clean it up. But maybe it's not that bad.
So, I go to the dentist. A painful experience. Then off to the bank. Feeling the effects of a late night, early morning, and noxious poo odors. Then my mom calls. Let's do lunch. Okay. Anything to put off the poo cleaning. As I leave the bank, I notice that the temperature is already blazing. That means I must clean the poo. The air conditioner intake vent is in the office. Either I clean the poo so I can use the a/c, or I don't and bake this afternoon. Such a dilemma. It actually took me about ten minutes to decide. Cle
aning won.
Soon, with a cotton ball in each nostril, I attacked the office. Luckily, the poo was not on anything important, and it only took me 15 minutes. I have time for a quick nap before meeting my mom, but first, I must speak with the dogs. I called them all onto the back porch. I looked each of them squarely in the eye and began my lecture. "Dogs, please let me explain that poo does not belong in the house. It belongs in the backyard. Grass is much better for absorbing poo that carpet or a rug. No more poo in the house. If you must go, please wake me up. I'll let you out. I'll even let you back in, if you want. No more poo. I'm asking nicely." They looked at me with their sweet doggie eyes. They understand! They get it! They love me and will stop making me clean up their poo. My day is better already.
Until this morning. The dogs go out at 5:30. I go back to bed. Wait, what's that smell? NO! No, no, no!!! Another pile of poo! That's it! I'm setting up a camera and catching the dog responsible. This cannot go on! Is it too much to ask them not to poop in the house? I do have a really nice backyard that they can poop on to their hearts' content. I'll have to think about this. A solution is out there. In the meantime, I'm going to order a Hazmat suit. I think I'll need it.
After getting home in the wee hours of the morning, I let the dogs in the house so we could all get some rest. I thought, I can sleep past 5:30 since they've obviously been outside for a long time. They won't need to get up so early to "potty." My alarm awakened me at 7:15 to prepare for my glorious dentist appointment. As my eyes opened, my nose recognized that all-to-icky smell of dog poo. Wonderful. Lately, one of the dogs has been pooping on the rug in the dining nook. It's either Tula (the heeler) or Nigel (the schnauzer). Zen's poop is in a whole other category. It is EPA worthy. I have to stick cotton balls up my nose to deal with his poo. It's noxious, and nothing short of bleach can get the smell out of whatever it lands on. Anyway, back to 7:15 am. I knew that I had a problem. Dog poo from Zen and, as I discovered momentarily, another pile on the dining nook rug. This is not good. I have to go to the dentist, then the bank, and then I must have nap. So, I clean up the dining nook rug. No problem. I glance in the office, which is Zen's favorite place to poop. Piles of poo. Piles. I shut the door and stuff a towel underneath it to keep the smell from invading the house too much. Some of you might be thinking, it can't be that bad. Surely you are exaggerating. I would invite you over next time he has an accident and let you decide for yourself. Personally, I would rather pull out my own fingernails than smell it or clean it up. But maybe it's not that bad.
So, I go to the dentist. A painful experience. Then off to the bank. Feeling the effects of a late night, early morning, and noxious poo odors. Then my mom calls. Let's do lunch. Okay. Anything to put off the poo cleaning. As I leave the bank, I notice that the temperature is already blazing. That means I must clean the poo. The air conditioner intake vent is in the office. Either I clean the poo so I can use the a/c, or I don't and bake this afternoon. Such a dilemma. It actually took me about ten minutes to decide. Cle
aning won.Soon, with a cotton ball in each nostril, I attacked the office. Luckily, the poo was not on anything important, and it only took me 15 minutes. I have time for a quick nap before meeting my mom, but first, I must speak with the dogs. I called them all onto the back porch. I looked each of them squarely in the eye and began my lecture. "Dogs, please let me explain that poo does not belong in the house. It belongs in the backyard. Grass is much better for absorbing poo that carpet or a rug. No more poo in the house. If you must go, please wake me up. I'll let you out. I'll even let you back in, if you want. No more poo. I'm asking nicely." They looked at me with their sweet doggie eyes. They understand! They get it! They love me and will stop making me clean up their poo. My day is better already.
Until this morning. The dogs go out at 5:30. I go back to bed. Wait, what's that smell? NO! No, no, no!!! Another pile of poo! That's it! I'm setting up a camera and catching the dog responsible. This cannot go on! Is it too much to ask them not to poop in the house? I do have a really nice backyard that they can poop on to their hearts' content. I'll have to think about this. A solution is out there. In the meantime, I'm going to order a Hazmat suit. I think I'll need it.
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