I’m sorry in advance I am. Seriously. I’m sorry.
I woke up at 8:15 this morning. On a Saturday. 8:15. Oh did I say I woke up at 8:15? Good.
One would hope that when they wake up on a lovely Saturday morning, and they have bird feeders outside for seed eating birds and hummingbirds that perhaps the sounds like would wake you up in the morning would be a numerous amount of bird chirps in some feaux Disney reality.
Instead what I received what an assualt on my senses that was enough to gag a garbage man. I have a very sensitive nose, even after years of smoking, (fyi quit date is tomorrow YAY!!) and smells can actually pull me out of bed before an alarm clock could even dream of it.
My 88 lbs. Great Dane. Now it is one thing when this dog farts…see I told you this was going to go downhill, but it is another thing entirely when she has an “accident”. An accident really means she didn’t try worth a darn to wake me up and pooped in my floor.
I am laying there in bed thinking “oh crap” no pun intended and seriously trying to distinguish whether or not the smell qualifies as a fart or poo. I laid there praying to myself that it was a fart. I slowly opened my eyes and didn’t immediately see any poo, so I thought I could go back to sleep.
But the smell lingered.
At that point I knew my dog attacked me AGAIN on a Saturday morning with the poo monster. I swear she is becoming more regular than a 60 year old man.
I hate it when she does this. There is just something wrong about picking up poop that is larger than human sized but doesn’t qualify for a shovel. What’s worse? As she has gotten older she has started WALKING AROUND while she poops. It’s not in a tidy little poo pile…Oh no. There are pieces of it all across the room.
My today started with a Wal-Mart bag, a papertowel, and a mop. How about yours?