Wednesday, December 23, 2009

I Am a Super Genius!

Alright, maybe not totally super genius, but I’m still feeling pretty brilliant. Or at least sorta smart. Kind of smart-cookie-ish. I know, somebody will think of the obvious way before I did, but just keep it to yourself please and let me have my small moments.

I must warn you before you go any further this is not a pretty story at all. It’s really pretty gross so if you have a weak stomach at all, I suggest you stop reading now.

Still reading? Well, I warned you…...

My pretty piggy hipppopupamus princess puppy, Ruby, has a very nasty habit. (See? Dogs are gross. There’s still time to stop.) She has taken to dining on poop for breakfast on an almost daily basis. I’ve no idea if it’s her own poo or her brother’s, but it is most definitely poo. She comes to the door happily licking her little whiskered lips so I know what she’s been up too. Her skunky, stinky breath is another telltale sign that can’t be missed.

Now, poop eating is gross enough. I already want to gag. But it doesn’t stop there. Because that would of course be too easy. And life with dogs isn’t easy. No, Ruby not only eats poo, but it of course upsets her stomach and she pukes it back up. In the house. Which I then have to clean up. I am extremely lucky that I don’t have an oversensitive gag reflex or I’d probably just have to move out of my house and have it condemned.

On Sunday she spent most of the entire day throwing up. Only it wasn’t like her regular gross puke. This puke smelled like the most rotten, dead, foul thing imaginable. This was beyond gross. I banished her to her crate for the day and lit every scented candle and opened every window. It was so horrible that I didn’t know if it was just gross or a symptom of some unknown health issue she might have. I was disgusted and worried. Great combination. She seemed fine when I got home the next day, so I went ahead and chalked it all up to her just being a Very Gross Dog. And sure enough, the next morning she was back to her breakfast of shit sausage.

I’ve pretty much had it at this point. I really can’t spend the rest of her life cleaning up poop vomit and avoiding her like the plague. I thought about following her out every morning so that I can yell at her when she gets the wrong end of her body next to a pile of something undesirable. But let’s be real. When it’s freezing in the morning, me taking a step outside just isn’t happening. And then I had the Best Idea Ever. Give her actual dog food for breakfast!!!

So last night I gave the dogs half of their normal meal. Half because Ruby is enough of a hippopupamus. She doesn’t need to gain anymore weight for Pete’s sake! I think they weren’t too happy about it and then I tortured them with baths and nail trims afterwards, so I probably wasn’t their favorite person last night. Then again, I was the only person in the house so take that, dog suckas!! Anyway, I’m sure I was forgiven for the dinner slight last night because they got breakfast this morning. I swear they acted like it was the greatest thing that ever happened to them. Like Christmas came early. (You know, that would have a better impact if I was writing this in July. Okay, like it had been their lifelong dream to have breakfast. Better?) The best part of all?? No poop eating!! (Insert sound of angels singing.) Ruby went outside and returned, not licking her little puppy lips, not with vile, stinky breath, but just doing a little happy dance and wagging her entire body. She makes up greatly for not having a real tail to wag.

That’s it. Nothing that will save the world or even a single person’s life. It won’t end world hunger or change the economy. But I don’t care. It will save my carpets. And my sanity. What’s left of it, anyway. It’s my little Christmas gift to myself. Yay me!


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