Squish, Splat, oh H-E- Double Hockey Sticks!

You know it's going to be a good day (not) when . . .

You know how it is when you get up and the first thing you need to do is go pee, but the old Schnauzer needs to go worse than you -- and he is doing his if-you-don't-take-me-out-now,-I'm going-to-pee-on-the-floor dance? Well, so, I go to the back door and I don't bother to turn on the light (it is a dark back porch, hate that); I let Mr. Happy out the door. He just stands there on the sidewalk and looks at me. Something's up. He should be flooding a spot on the ground by now.

So, I'm standing there with my legs crossed telling him to go potty and pointing in the direction of his personal space in the yard. I decide to shut the door and come back for him after I take care of my own business. I take a step back and squish! I stepped in dog poop! Happy didn't have to go at all; he was just making the great escape before I figured out what he had done!

How do I know it was him and not Sophie (Italian Greyhound), or even Baby (cat)? Well, Baby and Sophie go in their own litter boxes, or in close proximity. Besides, their poo is small. Happy's is larger and he walks all around when he poo's, so it isn't in just one spot. That's right. Poo all over my back porch! At least he went there, near the back door, and not in his favorite place on the dining room floor. Dumb dog, dumber than they come, dog!

Oh, yeah, and when I had opened the back door, it raked through the poo. Nice, real nice.

So, I hobble around on one foot and one corner of one heel, sort of crossing my legs, and I get his poo picked up in a bag and then use my Swiffer Sweeper Wet Wipe Mop Thingy and mop the floor real quick. No problem. Off to the bathroom!

Squish! What the H-E-Double Hockey Sticks is that cold and slimy . . . ohhhhhh, vomit. Yes, dog vomit. This is Sophie's. How do I know? She does this from time-to-time. She eats grass and then up it comes later. Oh, and she was doing it again moments later. Anyway, same foot, now slimed, and a new sheet of Swiffer Sweeper Wet Wipe Mop Thingy, legs still crossed, and I'm mopping again -- this time the kitchen.

I finally did make it to the bathroom, jumped in the bathtub and washed my feet, and somehow managed to get there (potty) in time not to have to clean up my own mess. While in there, I hear MK calling, "MOM! I think Sophie's throwing up!"

What's with the ants and spiders this spring? I've been fighting ants, tiny ones . . . and yesterday I killed 4 white spiders and then one more this morning. I have a ridiculous fear of spiders and they seem to want to haunt me right now.

Last night, MK and I were having fun throwing bean bag toys at each other in bed and her eyes suddenly got as big as quarters and she points to the wall above my head, "SPIDER!" I leapt out of the bed so fast you wouldn't know I can barely move in the mornings due to arthritis. Amazing what the fear of spiders can do for you!

Anyway, in the morning, MK was getting out of bed and there was another one in her bed. You know what, that little slowpoke can really move! Amazing. MK, not the spider. Well, actually, the spider moves pretty swiftly, too. Well . . . he used to.