I was on schedule to leave the house 15 minutes after I woke up... grooming, brushing, makeup, dressed. The last thing on my list before I snuck out of the house was to get my coffee. Daisy decided to leave us a number of free gifts in the middle of the night... in the form of diarrhea piles. Great. 7:30AM. I'm barely functioning and the house smells horrible. So I did the only thing I was capable of doing. I grabbed my coffee, let Daisy out, and left the house. I'm not cleaning up that shit.... literally. Instead, I sent Ryan a text to let him know that Daisy was sick and she was outside. He was going to be pissed... rightly so.
Fast forward to after work. Ryan said Daisy was in our bathroom. I'm hoping and praying that everything was ok. The house didn't smelled bad when I got home, so I go upstairs to let Daisy out. The stench that greeted me when I opened the bathroom door gagged me. Sigh... Not only that, she tracked "wet" prints out of the bathroom on her way down the stairs and out the door. It wasn't pleasant. I cleaned it up w/o throwing up. Close call, but I did it. What's worse? The mop was nowhere to be found, so I had to play Cinderella and get on my hands and knees to mop the whole damn bathroom with a rag.
The bathroom got cleaned, Daisy got a trip to the vet (we're a couple hundred poorer), Ryan has a thoroughly washed and shampooed dog while he was out riding, and I'm tired.
My in-laws are coming back up in a couple of weeks. Maybe they'll take Daisy home with them.
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