Wednesday, May 23, 2012

This is 3 minutes of your life you will never get back

Last night I was awakened by our dog, Mya, at sometime around middle-of-the-night-o'clock. She was perusing our room, finding things to chew on. I was annoyed, so I shooed her to her kennel and locked the door. I fell back asleep. Next thing I know, Mya is making all sorts of ruckus in her kennel (which I should mention is a tad too small for her growing legs). I decided to open the door, figuring she needed to stretch. As I'm trying to return to my dreams, I notice that she is pacing our room. It dawns on me that she probably needs to go to the bathroom. Sigh. I laid there contemplating if she really needed to go out, or if she was confused by the opening of her kennel - as that usually signals morning time.

Yeah. She needed to go out.

Next thing I hear is a loud fffffttttttppppppttthhhhhhh.

Oh no, she didn't.

I jump from bed, hoping it was just gas, dart to the door only to UNKNOWINGLY step in what was not just gas. I take one step out of my bedroom door onto the wood floor and my now mushy foot goes in the opposite direction as I intended it to. I stub my toe (which is still throbbing!) on the coat rack and hit HARD on the knee I've been so carefully nursing back to health since running. "WHAT THE...." may or may not have escaped my mouth. STILL not knowing what was on the bottom of my foot, I proceed to stumble to the back door where I finally set Mya free, thereby leaving a messy brown trail from my room to the back door.

By this time, Aaron is finally awake, and standing over a pile of smelly who knows what. I tell him that I think she may have pooped on the floor. He informs me that she indeed did, and that I also have now trailed it across the floor.


An hour and a half later, we were all cleaned up. Mya came to my side with her puppy dog eyes and tail between her legs, shaking - as if to say, "I'm sorry".

I'm convinced that the only thing worse than cleaning up a mess from a child in the middle of the night is in fact cleaning up a mess from a dog in the middle of the night.

Lucky for her, she's cute.

As I retold this story to a friend today, she began laughing. I realized the humor (somewhat) in it all, and began to laugh at it myself. I'm thankful that a story like this didn't take long for me to laugh at. (And Aaron, sweet Aaron, is REALLY laughing at it. Ask him sometime in person to give you his version of the details. He has arm motions and everything.)

Good night.

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