Scold the dog. He goes and hides in the corner, cowering. He knows he's been bad. Kick the dog outside while I clean this up. Where the hell is the vaccuum, anyway? Oh my god this dog! Wow look, he chewed one of her sandals, too. Man, he does NOT like changes in schedules! What is this stuff.. "blood meal"? Heavens to Murgatroid, what the hell is that? Oh my god, it's congealed blood, not dirt. This is disgusting. Man, I need a beer. Beer is good, going to start up Final Fantasy XII again, maybe it's not so bad. Yeah, it's not good. Screw it, this is too frustrating. More beer, and Star Trek Online!
Wed Night. Dog seems moopy. He knows he's been bad. Going to bed. He's curled up smack in the middle, and refuses to budge. Farting. Oh, the farting! This dog is made of farts. Shove him over. Hey, the cat is on the bed, too. First time she's been willing to get up on the bed with the dog around. She likes the farts maybe? Weird cat. Sleep.
Early in the morning, dog wakes up and yips next to the door. "Need to go out, boy? Okay, Bubba." Let dog out. Fall asleep again, head heavy. Stupid beer. Dog is barking. Will not be able to sleep with dog barking right outside window. Time is....6AM. Let dog in, go back to sleep. Dog curls up on bed. Dog gets up and wanders around house. Goes back to sleep.
Wake up later. Bleary. Take dog for walk. House smells like dog farts. How does he fart so much? I swear he puts out more energy than he takes in. Dog is walked. Leave him outside while I get ready for work. Forgot to brush teeth. Brush teeth, lights off, whatever, flicking switches is work. Out to kitchen, forgot to feed dog. Put food in dog bowl, fill water bowl. Dog farts! How does he do that he's not even in the house. Must not have good ventilation. Fiddle with window...still smell dog farts. Uh oh. Look down.
Oh my god, there's black stuff on my shoe it's not...oh god, it is! Dog poo, on my shoe. Oh my god...black, stinking, viscuous poo. It's...yep, footprints right out the kitchen. Oh no. Oh no. Oh by Hawkin's chair, no! Please tell me he pooed in the kitchen and I just...oh no. Oh no. Trail of black, stinking footprints leading back out of kitchen. Into dining room. Into study..through hallway...and in the bathroom. Yep, polite dog craps in the bathroom when he craps indoors. And now it's ground into the carpet, tiles, hardwood, thanks to stupid me stepping in it and not realizing.
Oh my god. How the hell am I even going to clean this? Maybe I should just leave. Disappear, A-Team style. Or I could move. Burn the place down? Crikey, this is going to take hours to clean, there's no way I'm going to make it to work on time. This is going to suck. Oh my god, this frickin' dog. He ate fertilizer, and crapped out nasty, black, horrible blood-meal poo and I tracked it all over the floor. Why the hell do we even HAVE congealed animal blood in a dog-reachable cupboard? I can't deal with this. What can I start the fire with?
I can't even start to deal with this until I've had some coffee. So yep, I'm going to stand here in my stocking feet on a floor covered in congealed-blood-poo, brewing coffee.
My life is a world of poo.