Y’all ‘member EmmaLou, Golden Destroyer? The 75 lb bane of my existence? At 7 1/2 years old, she’s rapidly approaching doggie dotage. Unfortunately, she has acquired a new habit; one that I’m finding difficult to live with, and that’s putting it mildly.
EmmaLou had decided our house is now her bathroom. Oh, she still goes outside and sniffs every blade of grass and she may occasionally make a deposit somewhere in the yard. More often than not, I am awakened to the wafting aroma of … well… you know what comes out of a dog. Let’s just say, I would rather be awakened by practice time from the marching band of the worst high school in Lower Slobovia than this.
The other day I had a new experience. While working in my home office I was alerted to the sight of EmmaLou in the hallway. She roamed around in circles and that emergency klaxon in the far recesses of my brain started going off. This dog was about to make a deposit on my light-colored hallway carpet and I was a goodly distance away from her. As she began to squat and get that glazed look in her eyes, I flew out of my ergonomic chair and sprinted for the hall bathroom all the while screaming at the top of my lungs, “Emma Nooooooooooooooooooo!” D’ya think that stopped her from her mission?
Amazingly enough, I gathered gobs of tp and managed to “catch the first baby”, quickly turn around and sprint to the toilet and deposit it, grab another wad of tp and repeat the process. Thinking I had finished handling (sorry) this disaster, I slowed my progress. And that’s when it happened. Everything she had been saving arrived and descended in slow motion onto my carpet. I stood there in horror wondering if my dog had, in fact, been the result of a breeding experiment gone horribly wrong – a Golden Retriever and a hippopotamus perhaps. I didn’t have enough tp left in the bathroom for this.
About that time, Devoted Spouse was running up the stairs with a large roll of paper towels and the ever-present gallon-sized bottle of Resolve. As he hit the second to last stairstep I had acquired a large handful of Kleenex and managed to scoop what was left, once more wasting gallons and gallons of precious water flushing.
I lost count of how many times I hit that toilet handle and ran back to the hallway. I imagine that day all the meters on the utility company Plasma Screens of Flushing were in the red zone. EmmaLou was so proud of herself. If I could expel what she did in those copious amounts; well let’s just put it this way: I’d probably now be a size 2….sigh…