This morning, Cami, the wooly white dog expressed her digestive distress all over the hall floor. She does this periodically and it doesn’t mean that she’s sick. No veterinarian has ever figured out why she periodically embarks on these a.m. yak-fests, but this morning we got to experience, what we call a “yellow slime moment.” (Dog owners will know exactly what I mean.)
In any case, today’s insult to the hall floor was the last straw. It has started to smell decidedly “doggy” in the hall for a while. I figure when it’s reached the point where I can tell it smells, it must be bad.
These are the moments when I wonder, yikes, what if non-dog owners came into this house? How disgusting would it smell to them? So, I grabbed all the cleaning stuff and have been on a 9-hour marathon cleaning jag. I have thoroughly scrubbed, vacuumed, swept, and hosed down every floor surface in the house. I also cleaned out Cami’s sky kennel, and most of the walls that were covered with “dog oils” (for lack of a better term).
I’m so exhausted, I can barely see to write this. On the other hand, in the unlikely event someone shows up, the house may actually smell okay.