OKAY. 10:THIRTY.
It's not like I wasn't doing anything...I WAS. I loaded my dishwasher this morning while the muffins were baking. I was gone all day yesterday, and then we ate out last night...so I had a full sink this morning. I've done laundry. I made a grocery list and went out to get a few things.
And I had to go take care of a few things out in the garage.
And by "take care of a few things," I mean that I had to shovel doggie poo-poo out of the garage.
We have a black Lab. And she is sweet...oh my goodness, she is sweet. I am convinced that she is the best dog ever, and I will fight you if you disagree.
I mean, like, get out of my car in the line at the Chick-Fil-A fight you.
I'M KIDDING.
She is really sweet, tho.
And she's getting old. I think she's around 9 years old. Maybe 10.
Our dogs are all outside dogs because of my allergies. That's why we have LABS and not little halfadogs that have to stay in the house. Our Labs have always stayed outside unless it got really, REALLY cold...and then we would bring them into the garage. Over the years that we've had dogs, those times have been very rare.
Until the past year or so.
The older Maggie has gotten, the more afraid she's gotten of thunderstorms. She will just get beside herself and shake...and scratch at the door until we let her in. Then, she will RUN through the house to get to the garage. After the storm has passed, we typically can put her back in the backyard and she is fine.
But now, she is clawing at the door every night around 7 p.m., storm or no storm. At first, I thought it was because she was cold...but even on the nights when it hasn't been that cold, she is clawing at the door.
Then I found out that Clark and Faith had rigged up an electric blanket and put it on her mat in the garage.
WELL, NO WONDER!
I don't mind that Maggie wants to be in the garage at night...I really don't. What I DO mind is that she leaves a little smelly present right beside the door of my vehicle. Not by the passenger side. Not at the back. Not at the front. RIGHT BY WHERE I NEED TO STAND TO OPEN MY DOOR TO GET IN.
I've tried everything...not feeding her late...taking her for a walk...letting her out to potty right before we go to bed.
(sigh)
And, I can usually smell it first thing when I open the door to go out...so it's not a total surprise. I always remind Joshua to "watch where you step," just in case she has found a new spot.
I didn't follow my own advice last Wednesday. In my defense, I didn't smell anything.
I was headed to choir practice and was going to pick up Holly on the way. As I was walking out, I thought about Holly getting home late and not having time to eat anything before choir, so I ran back in the house and grabbed a can of gingerale and a granoli bar. You know, dinner of champions.
#MOMOFTHEYEAR.
I rushed around the corner toward my vehicle and slipped on Maggie's "surprise"...and slid across the garage like Tom Cruise in "Risky Business."
I'm not even kidding.
How I didn't fall is a mystery to me, but thank you, Jesus.
No, really. THANK YOU, JESUS.
I did, however, mess up my right cheetah-print TOMS wedge that Pinterest Told Me To buy a couple of years ago, and I didn't have time to clean it up right then. I wiped my shoe on the grass as best I could, and put it on a shelf in the garage. Then, I HOPPED through the house to my bedroom, changed into a different pair of shoes and bugged out. And when I picked up Holly, and finally got to choir practice and sat down, I sent Jim a text which started something like this: "YOUR DOG..."
The poo-poo was bad enough, but how Jim has chosen to clean it up is another. He scoops it out with the shovel, and then sprinkles "Love My Carpet" in about a 2-3 foot radius around the "spot."
Every time.
So, like 50 different times.
And it does make things smell better, but now there is "Love My Carpet" powder all over the garage...and that stuff is slick as snot on a door-knob (that's one of my father-in-law's sayings) (isn't he fun?) (love him). Also, it's all over the floorboard in my car, on the bottoms of all of my shoes...and I may or may not have ingested some of it into my lungs. I look like a crack dealer when I pull up and get out of my car...because there's white powder everywhere.
OH MY WORD.
My sweet Maggie is unaware of all the trouble she's causing. We don't know what to do because we don't want to leave her outside if she's cold. If we don't immediately go to the door and let her in, she will sit out there and cry the most pitiful cry you've ever heard...and it totally tugs at my heart-strings.
It's kind of like the cry I make every morning when I see what she's left me in the garage...
Only she doesn't seem to care.
I even had her make a verbal contract with me last night. She scratched on the door and I went to the door to talk to her. I made her sit there until she agreed that if I let her in, she would not...under ANY circumstances...poo-poo in the garage.
Girlfriend is a liar.
"Your righteousness is like the mighty mountains, Your justice like the ocean depths. You care for people and animals alike, O LORD." Psalm 36:6
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