Ewwwwwww!

I am SO grossed out right now. We have two dogs. Butterscotch, or Butters if she’s being good, and Brownie. These are not small dogs. Butters is part lab and part Red Heeler. Brownie is part lab and part German Shepherd (and part CHICKEN, but that is another post). We have a 4 foot chain-link fence in the backyard. Yes, 4 foot, not 8 or even 6. It was put up long before I joined the family, let alone Butters and Brown-Brown. This is a recipe for disaster.

We’ve been having, shall we say, ‘issues’, with the dogs pushing the chain-link ‘net’ down away from the top rail and gallivanting around the neighborhood. This has left Matthew in literal tears, completely convinced they are “gone FOREVER”, several times a day when it was at what I then perceived to be the worst. I know now that *that* was not the worst of it. Today is, and not because Matt is in tears again. In fact this time that the dogs escaped was one of the very, very few times he did NOT turn on the waterworks. Instead he kinda sighed, went in the house and got his shoes, then went out after them.

Not too many minutes later, I heard a thump at the front door, which as we all know, is code for: “Open the door please, Mommy. I’m back from chasing doggies. I was successful in grabbing both by the collar, and since I have two dogs and only two hands, I am now having to thump the door with my head, as I am hunkered down and can not reach the doorbell with my nose.”

So I let them in. Matt tells me he caught them down at the creek and that Brownie drug him through some thorns (no real damage, just a small scratch). Then he wanders back into the laundry room to check on the dogs again and brings Butterscotch back into the dining room with him by force and closes the kitchen door so she can’t go back in the pantry. Why? Because he is concerned for her. He caught her trying to EAT HER OWN PUKE! I’m concerned too. He is worried she will get sick. I am concerned that we have the stupidest dog alive.

Oh I am so sick right now. Yuck, yuck, yuck. The laundry room is between the kitchen and the bathroom. To get to the bathroom from the dining room, the quickest way is through the kitchen and laundry room. I headed through there and almost added to the disgusting pile in my path. There is a long black something in the middle of a bunch of slime. I SO do not want to know what it was he saw that dog eating by the edge of the creek, because whatever it was is now on my laundry room floor.

I’m a mom. I can handle puke. Just recently both kids came down with a stomach virus that left me with the cleanest bathroom around if you catch my drift, but that’s kids! It seems dogs are an entirely different matter. So I went the long way round to the bathroom and have decided that hubby and I need to share the clean-up chores equally. I’ll clean up kid-puke, he can clean up dog-puke. At least that’s *my* plan, I haven’t actually asked hubby yet. I hope he can be persuaded. And I hope sweet Butterscotch never, never, NEVER decides to eat lunch down by the creek again.

updated at 6pm to add:

Talked to Mike when he got up. I told him I had a little favor and a big favor to ask. First I told him I was thirsty. Because that means he is to go to the store and spoil me by bringing me back a soda. hehe Then I asked him if he thought that was the little or big favor. He told me he thought it was the impossible favor. “Oh, if that’s the impossible favor, then I’ve got it made!” I told him. So then I told him that Butterscotch had decided to go out to eat for lunch and had decided she didn’t like what was on the menu. haha

My poor kiddos, though! Not only did he say no, he delegated the task to the kids. I started to protest (loudly), but then the Lord reminded me that a few weeks back Mike had had to remind them that the dogs were adopted with the understanding that the kids would be responsible for them *and* their messes. They had been fighting horribly about who was going to clean up the mess left in the hall because neither kid had taken them out for pottytime. Sooo, Mike intervened and set up rotations and asked me to post them on the fridge. He told them they would rotate weekly, one on potty and mess patrol (and he did specifically state ALL messes), one on food and water patrol. (So basically one on the ‘in-watch’ and one on the ‘out-watch’.) He had made it clear in no uncertain terms that they had to straighten up and pick up the slack in their responsibilities or the doggies would have to go. He was right then, and he’s right now. I can’t say I’m just real thrilled with that at the moment. =(

As Meagan is on the ‘out-watch’, I think she is getting an extra special dessert tonight (if her appetite stays intact, that is).

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