My day last Friday…

Woke up early, of course. As David was leaving, he let Bella in the bedroom and she promptly jumped on the bed, where Brandon and I were lounging. I was so sleepy and was really hoping he was about to take a little morning nap so I could rest too. That was not to be. I looked over at David’s side of the bed, where Bella had jumped up, and there was a huge brown smear on the sheets. I don’t know why I did what I did next because clearly it was dog poop, but I leaned over and sniffed it. Yep, dog poop. Bella at this point was laying on our blanket. I immediately shouted at her to get down and grabbed Brandon out of the bed. Think it ends here? Not even close.

I noticed Bella still had poop on her butt, despite smearing a good bit of it on our bed. So I hustled her outside and grabbed a little seat for Brandon and put him on the deck while I went to turn the hose on. Both baby and dog were extremely confused by this flurry of activity. As I turned the hose on, I realized the hose itself was in the pool with the spout on the concrete of the other side of the pool. There was something on the end of that spout. I squinted (I had on my glasses and the prescription is probably six years old, so essentially I might as well not even bother wearing them) and realized it was this rubber drain bladder for the pool. I don’t know exactly what that item does (in fact, I had to ask David the proper name for it), but I know they easily explode because I’ve seen David get angry when they burst. I had the water going at a pretty high level and in a split second all I could think was, “Oh my god, that thing is going to pop and hit my baby in the face, disfiguring him for life.” I promptly turned the knob to the left. Yes, you read that correctly–the left. In my panic, I had forgotten the age-old rule of righty-tighty, lefty-loosey. Of course, this sped up the process and POP! It sounded like a gun shot. Bella freaked out and ran for the safety of the screened-in porch. Surprisingly, the loud noise did not faze Brandon at all (nor was he disfigured in any way–the thing simply split open when it popped).

I was at my wit’s end. I yelled at Bella very sternly to come to me. Now, that upset Brandon. His face crumpled and he began to wail. I couldn’t do anything about that, though, because I had to clean Bella up. She’s not an outside dog and it was going to be very hot outside that day to boot. She very hesitantly approached me. I grabbed her by the collar and proceeded to put my thumb over the hose to make it spray out harder and gave her rear a good spraying. Brandon stopped crying and watched this scene with great interest. Bella wouldn’t stop moving and I got drenched so I took off my shirt. There I was, at a little after 8:00 in the morning, in my bra and shorts, cleaning my dog’s ass while my baby watched. I sprayed her butt until I was satisfied that it was clean (it was very hard to tell because she kept putting her enormous fluffy tail down over her butthole). I went to turn off the hose. Guess what Bella did? Promptly went and took a dump. I picked up Brandon, leaving my wet shirt outside, and went inside to clean myself up a little and, of course, to wash the sheets and blanket in scalding hot water. Bella stayed outside.

I went to check on her a little while later. She appeared to be pretty dry so I let her inside, prepared to scrutinize her butthole for any debris. I didn’t have to scrutinize. She had a turd hanging from her butthole!! I mean, what the hell? Brandon was napping, so I directed her back outside and hosed her backside down again. That turd was not budging. I couldn’t believe it. Finally I had to grab my t-shirt I’d left outside earlier, put it over my hand and grab the damn thing. It’s amazing how unbothered one is about handling poop when they have a dog and a baby.

So I never got my nap that day. Bella eventually got to come back inside. I thought to myself, “I really am getting better” because a couple of months ago, I would have lost my head. Actually, a couple of months ago, I would have probably just thrown a pillow over the poop spot and rolled over and cried. So I’m improving. I knew when I laughed about this whole thing, rather than letting it irritate me, that all this medication and therapy is really helping me. Still, I’m hoping I don’t have to be a dog bidet again anytime soon.

July 29, 2011. Uncategorized.

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