Thursday, October 22, 2009

...and then he put out the fire.

i don't know if it's this time of the year or if there's something going on with the moon, but our dogs have officially lost their dang minds...

last night, bryce and i were sitting on the couch watching t.v. and enjoying the rain.  (well at this point, the rain had slowed from a freaking monsoon to a nice little shower).  as we sat there, we heard a noise...bryce thought it was moose licking and i thought it was the rain picking up again.  we both happened to look over toward the kitchen to find moose, hiking his leg and peeing on our chair.  I KID YOU NOT, he hiked his freaking leg and soaked the chair, like the damn thing was on fire or something and he had to save us all by putting it out.  WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH THESE ANIMALS??!!!

i can honestly say in my whole entire life i have never been more scared for moose because the hurricane was a'comin'.  it was almost as if moose knew what was in store for him because he came over, sat down in front of bryce while lowering his ears and tucking his tail.  moose was prepared for punishment.

we were both so in shock that we could barely move.  well, bryce got over that real quick and beat the ever-lovin-crap out of him with a wooden spoon.  and with that, moose was banished to the back yard  to endure hurricane rains and wind.  after about three hours, moose was still sitting at the back door in the pouring down rain whining to come in.  i'm hoping the idiot went and got in his dog house, but we're not really sure if he did or not.

needless to say that our poor mop is on its way out...between moose dookie and moose pee, i think it's seen better days.  so, the saga of the delinquent dogs continues...but hopefully we're nearing the end.  these dogs are slowly inching their way towards becoming outside dogs, which would be a huge bummer since winter isn't far away!

Tuesday, October 20, 2009

He dropped a bomb.

Aaaah...the life of a mom and dad.  Now I know that you're asking yourself right now, "MOM AND DAD?!  WHAT?!!  THEY'RE PREGANT?!!"  No.  Absolutely not.  I am referring to our lovely puppies who seem to always fill our lives with (usually unwanted) excitement.

For those of you that don't know, I started working at Wells Fargo last week.  I get off work around 6:15 and PRAISE THE LORD I only have about a ten minute commute.  Yes, you heard me.  TEN MINUTES.  Anyway, much to my misfortune, Bryce was on his way home later than normal tonight and I actually beat him home.  Lately, we have been arguing back and forth about me making the dogs stay outside during the day.  Okay, I'll be honest.  It's really not's more of me getting in trouble for not doing what I'm told...and you bet your sweet cheeks that it came back and bit me royally today.

As I pulled into the driveway, all I could think about was getting inside and fixing dinner.  I walked through the door and this extremely foul odor smacked me square in the face.  I frantically ran around to try to find it so I could dispose of the evidence before Bryce got home because I knew what was coming for me if I didn't get rid of it.  It's usually Diva, so I started yelling at her while I was sniffing around for the terds that she usually leaves under the table (I guess because she thinks we won't find it...or that's the only place Moose can't get to her.)  Well, it took me about 15 seconds to find it...

As I rounded the corner and walked into the living room, there it was...probably the biggest square footage of catastrophic dog diarreah one has ever seen in their lifetime.  Not only was it a wonderful mixture of solid, slightly solid and liquid, as Moose relieved himself the excrement hit our hard wood floors ever so nicely and SPLATTERED.  EVERYWHERE.  Floors, walls, baseboards, furniture.  He dropped a bomb and it exploded right in our living room, and I had the honor of trying to do damage control.  Fabulous. 

As I stood there frantic, knowing there was ABSOLUTELY NO WAY I was getting this cleaned up before Bryce got home, I started gagging because the whole freaking house reaked of Moose doo doo.  When Bryce drove up, I told him I needed his help...and he then ever so sweetly reminded me that I was the one who kept the dogs inside.  There was no other way to get rid of this mess than to just dive in, so I did.  Well, first I went upstairs (side note:  it smelled WORSE upstairs because the fumes had time to float to the second floor and so wonderfully ferment in our bedroom...) and got one of Bryce's bandanas that I so horribly loathe and tied it around my face because if I smelled anymore of that putrid stench, there would be vomit all over the floor to go along with the remnants of Pedigree.  I looked like an old-timey western bank robber with that thing on my face. 

So, after about ten rags and an entire roll of paper towels, spraying vinegar and mopping with boiling water, the atomic bomb had been properly disposed of and a haz mat shower was in need for all who had been inside the Thompson house. 

Sweet Lord, God Almight I pray that I NEVER come home to a nice little surprise like that ever again in my entire life.  Needless to say, both of our appetites were definitely surpressed. 

I would post pictures of the disaster...but I figure there might be some law against traumatic photographs or something.  Well that and I can't find my camera.


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