Tails of Maggie & Katie: Need a couple of extra dogs?

Need a couple of extra dogs?

by B. A. Brown

I have two I would be glad to ship to you. In a styrofoam box, with dry ice to ensure freshness.

Nice and early this a.m. - before the sun was up -- I woke to the ominous sounds of a dog barfing.

I turned on the light (I now know better than to just leap out of bed; Chester used to come and wake me up AFTER he had barfed, customarily right next to the bed. Apparently he felt it important that I know, but not important enough to tell me prior to the event.).

Nothing untoward in view.

I get up, turn on the hall light, look around. Nothing yet.

I cross to the lamp in the living room, turn it on.

Oh. There it is.

Someone has barfed on the couch. Not only that, but they have prepared the landing area prior to ejection. They have carefully removed the sheets to expose the bare upholstery first.

OK. I am not going to deal with this now.

I grab the couch cushion, and VERY carefully keeping it level, I walk to the back door, prop the cushion on a hip and open the door, and then firmly place cushion on the cement.

I turn around, see two innocent faces looking up at me.

I signal them to go out. I watch carefully; I cannot tell who the culprit is. I leave them out there, in the dark, go back in, close the door. I gather up the couch sheets, throw them in the washing machine. They are, I believe, unaffected by the indigestion problem, but I do not feel like inspecting. I have some coffee, wait for the cycle to finish, pour in more detergent and staart it up again. I then go back to sleep.

Hours later I wake to the sound of piteous whines.

I remember that I have relegated the canines to the cold cruel world.

OK. OK. They must be empty by now.

I go to the kitchen, make the coffee, let the girls in.

They run to the water dish. They drink deeply and noisily. Oh hell. Now I feel guilty.

Treat your pet to Omaha Steaks Pet Treats!

Coffee ready. I pour a cup, decide to go out and inspect the cushion. Perhaps it is not as bad as I seem to remember.

I go outside. It is worse than I remember.

I decide that I am not dealing with that now.

I go back inside, and smell something very very familiar. I look down.

One of them has tracked in on a big hairy paw some canine excrement...and I can follow the trail.

"*&$$%(@@!!"

"GET OUT HERE!!"

I usher them back outside.

I get out the cleaning stuff. I clean the floor in the laundry room. I clean the kitchen floor. I switch to the wood floor equipment. I clean the spoor through the living room. I clean the hallway floor. I am about to enter my bedroom, when I see that the covers have been disturbed.

Shoved to one side. Sloppily, as if by a paw without an opposable thumb.

My worst fears realized.

The Phantom Barfer has struck again.

On MY BED.

I gather up the bedding. I carry it all very gingerly back to the laundry room. I start the first load.

I go back to the bedroom.

I decide that I am not dealing with that now.

Out to the linen closet. I pick out the oldest towels. I place the towels over the wet spot on the mattress. The very LARGE wet spot on the mattress.

I put a triple layer of towels over the wet spot.

I go get another cup of coffee, turn on the tv, sit on the bed as far away from the you-know-what, and watch the news tell me how godawful the world is.

Over the next few hours, I take out one load (having run it thruough two full cycles), put it in the dryer, start the next load. After two full washes - that load goes in the dryer, and so on.

Soon I have a huge pile of clean bedding atop the dryer.

I take the closest-to-mattress two towels, throw them in the wash, cover the wet spot with two more towels.

I go outside. I ignore the pleas of the two poor wretched puppies FORCED to stay outside in the sun.

I remove the upholstery cover from the cushion. I decide that rehabbing the cover is hopeless. It goes in the garbage.

I slip back inside - leaving the abused mournful two out in the fresh air.

I return to the linen closet, find two large towels, cover the foam rubber cushion, replace it on the couch. I then gather up the freshly laundered couch sheets, tuck them around the cushions.

I get some spot-remover. I spray it liberally upon my mattress. I cover the wet-from-spot-remover spot with another three layers of towels.

More coffee. More nap.

Girls are still outside.

Periodic whining. My heart is steeled. I ignore the whining.

OK. Mattress finally dry. I flip it over.

(That sounded much MUCH simpler than the actual process: it is a queen-sized mattress; it has no handy handles or rope-y things; I am one person, in terrible physical condition; the room is very small and very crowded, and little opportunity to move the bed around).

I replace the bedding.

I throw the last of the towels into the washing machine.

It is starting to get dark.

It is way past dinner time.

I measure out one half of one cup of kibble into each dish. I dump in some hot-from-the-tap water.

No canned food. No gravy. No table scraps. No comsomme, no tender tasty bits ladled lovingly over the top. No inviting herbs & spices. Just plain bread - er - kibble and water.

I let Them in.

They proceed very quietly on tippy-toe to their respective dishes. Turn up their noses. Sigh. Sit pretty and look at me adoringly, winningly, smiling. Oh PLEASE can we have something better??

I give them the POUND look. They turn and eat. Quietly.

I return to my room.

..... and now, more Tails of Maggie & Kate (ongoing stories, please keep checking back to see what has been added)

Index to Tails of Maggie & Katie by B. A. Brown

Introducing Maggie & Katie & Mom

Maggie is on a Diet

I really gotta get a life

Maggie the Musician

Anchors Aweigh!

Goose Down Races - Doo Dah, Doo Dah Maggie has discovered The Pillow

Good Morning! GAAAAAAKKKKKKKKKKK Bathroom Time

Living alone.... It is dark. Very dark

ar Mom has a new jok but I don think its funnee! by Maggie

A Strange Occurrence

Need a couple of extra dogs?