The day started as any other. Alarm goes off at 5:45 a.m. and then off for a nice hot shower. I get out of the shower and go out to get the paper, contemplating what to have for breakfast while I read the paper and watch the morning news. Then it happened. I stepped on my Persian rug and felt a "squish". Still being half awake I took another step before I realized that this is not normal. Looking down I saw the reason for my confusion at the same time my nose finally registered the reason for the problem. At this point I let loose with a string of profanities that would make my brother the sailor blush. Riddle me this Batman: why, when the dog decides to have an accident, do they they avoid the easily cleanable linoleum and head straight for the carpet? Why do they not leave one easily manageable pile, but instead leave a trail of poop on the brown oriental carpet? I am not one who likes a "treasure hunt" first thing in the morning! Of course, neither of the dogs will come near me because they know I am mad. Husband is no help either. He is groggily calling out from the bedroom "Honey, is there a problem?" "No Dear, I always swear like a sailor first thing in the morning. Why do you ask?"
I believe the culprit in this is Sweetie Pie, who has digestive problems. Normally she will come and wake Bob up to go outside, but she is terrified of the cats. If one is in the hallway, she will not come near the cat. (She outweighs the cats by at least 40 pounds, but she is still terrified of them, but that is the subject for another blog entry)
Bob finally wakes up and gets dressed. His timing is impeccable. He comes out as I just finish with the last of it. I leave the laundering of the cleaning rags to him. I now have a bag of poo on the front porch and the desire to find some one's porch to burn it on. (There is obviously something seriously wrong with me)
At least at this point I can honestly say my day can only get better!