Last night, I had to change the sheets at 11 p.m.
We had gone to bed early. My Guy was reading, and I was in that weird twilight that can best be described as "It's freezing in our bedroom and I've been traveling and I'm exhausted and I can't talk to anyone else or do anything for anyone ever, ever again so don't even ask if I flossed before coming to bed."
Big Doodle snoozed in his dog bed. Lil' Frankfurter snored in the bed between us, his doting parents.
And then? There was some sort of explosion.
Lil' Frank leaped from the bed and started gagging. The husband and I were both immediately wide awake, overcome by the nastiest, fartiest smell ever. And then My Guy realized there was some sort of stuff all over his shirt.
It was also on the sheets. The stench was remarkable. And we couldn't figure out what end of Lil' Frank it had come from.
It didn't really matter, though. Our number 1 objective was to strip the bed and the shirt immediately. We cleaned everything up and calmed Lil' Frank down. The foul smell lingered, but I was so tired that I didn't exactly care.
Today, Lil' Frank was still fragrant. And his little booty? Well, you know. I took him to get his anal glands expressed. Best day ever!
Except! The vet tech brought him back to me with a bit of a shrug. "They were mostly empty," she said. "It was like they'd just been expressed."
I looked at her blankly, then the light bulb went off. I explained the previous night's adventures.
"Oh, sure," she said nonchalantly. "If there was liquid and smell, he probably expressed them himself."
Let's just let that sink in for a moment. Lil' Frank, who weighs 8 pounds and can't even go up and down stairs, expressed his own anal glands. In our bed. And his little ass explosion so terrified him that he catapulted off the bed and almost threw up.
To be fair, I catapulted off the bed and almost threw up, too. But I have opposable thumbs.
The Westminster Dog Show needs to add a new competition. Screw agility and best in breed. The real test of a dog is its ability to clean its own butt.
Thursday, February 26, 2015
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9 comments:
I know you don't post as often anymore, but I always check in just to see how things have been going. Though I don't know you in real life, I thoroughly enjoy your writing. Thanks for the laugh today, it's been a rough month and puppy booties that talented - I couldn't help but splurt coffee at my desk. :-)
That is one dog-related thing I haven't experienced yet. Thank goodness.
We had a similar incident with our daughter on our bed at 3 am when she was a newborn.
I'm guessing the gas build up helped with the release?
That is SO nasty. But kind of amazing. Mostly nasty.
BlueBells, thank you for your kind words! I so appreciate you checking in. I'm trying to post every Thursday now, so hopefully I can stick with that. Glad Lil' Frank made you spit out your coffee!
You're lucky, Jane. Trust me.
Oof! Because you weren't sleep-deprived enough anyway?
I know, right? It's so gross ... but incredible.
I gagged... and then I started laughing hysterically.
You've got writing chops, my friend.
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