21/12/2023
Dogs, never a dull moment. This recent one is up there with the puppy poo party under the bed and the cat vomiting in my hair… 🤮.
At 2am the dogs were barking at something outside. This happens most nights at random times when the dogs think a croaking frog is trying to break into the house or a screaming bat is stealing our car. So in my semiconscious sleepwalking state, I did the usual in the pitch black… I felt my way into the into the living room with my eyes still closed (trying to pretend I was still asleep), called them in and locked them inside the house in their special playpen. Meanwhile our 11month old puppy Mack decided to give my pyjama clad body a full tongue bath… against my will I should add… but I was tired and he got me while my defences were down, licking my legs, arms, feet, whatever he can because at 25kg and at 2am I was struggling to stop him.
And that’s when I smelled it… cat s**t!!! Fresh, obnoxiously rank, like something died a week ago and has been festering in the sun… cat s**t! At first I just hoped that one of them had stepped in it but when I flicked on the light it quickly became apparent it was far, far, far worse.
Mack was standing there with yellow cat s**t bubbling like a foam party from his fat sloppy chops, smeared across his face from his interaction with my legs, arms, hands, pyjamas… you name it. I don’t know why I smelled my arm, I think I needed clarification that I did indeed have liquid cat s**t all over me. One whiff…and situation confirmed 🤮.
Now I’ve worked with animals my entire life, cleaning up after them. I worked in a kennels and catteries for quarantine, vet surgeries and wildlife rescues. I’ve stood in a stable full of elephant s**t, tossing it out to the poo cart with my bare hands. I have smelled every animal s**t you can possibly think of and it hasn’t phased me… but this… this was next level. My stomach turned instantly. Maybe it was the thought that he had actually eaten this vile substance but I started dry retching. I sprung out of the dog pen and flew down the hallway to our ensuite. So at 2am there I am having a full shower, scrubbing my skin within an inch of its life to get the smell out. At 2:30am and near on bleeding, I crawled into bed next to Paul Williams who leads a very privileged life with his selective hearing and didn’t even wake up. But that was not even the worst part…
At 5am I woke to Mack whining in the house. I assumed he probably wanted to go out for a wee so once again, eyes closed, I felt my way through the darkness to their playpen. The smell hit me like a freight train before I even got to their pen. 1000% worse than before, which I didn’t think was even possible. I flicked on the light and there was Mack and our other bulldog Lili, standing in a massive puddle of cat-s**t dog vomit, while Mack was enthusiastically demonstrating what I looked like on most Sundays morning back in 1999, bringing up every last bit of his odorous meal and power spewing it onto the floor, the bed, the walls… everything, much like a Pro Hart painting.
I immediately started dry retching again, but this time I was actually going to vomit. I locked them outside while I scooped up the regurgitated faeces in a towel, doing everything within my power to stop from up chucking into the towel myself. I threw it outside the door while I then ajax’ed everything in the playpen.
20mins later, finally finished and smelling like a pine forest I looked outside to see both Mack and Lili laying all over the cat s**t spew towel and grinding it into their coat for that lingering effect that dogs love so much.
So at 5am as the sun crept over the horizon I was outside washing both dogs because I couldn’t take him to the vet in our new car smelling like a sewerage plant. I thought at that point it couldn’t get worse… but… it gets worse…
Fast forward to 8am, dressed in my best business attire, and after an hour and a half trapped in the enclosed cabin space of the car on a 35 degree day outside with Mack panting his cat s**t breath all over me and having it recirculated by the air conditioning and blowing it pack in my face like an fowl smelling arctic wind, we finally got to the vet.
The first thing they did was take his temperature. Being a boisterous puppy I grabbed him around the waist with my hand on his belly to hold him still while the vet plunged the thermometer into his a**s. Apparently this is a HUGE turn on for an 11month old puppy and he promptly ejaulated all over my hands. 😱I had a long sleeve blouse on and all I could think was that I was going to get dog sputum all over my work clothes and I wasn’t sure how I would explain that to my colleagues. I stood up with a look of horror on my face. I couldn’t even find the words, I think my brain had just reached its capacity for dealing with unspeakable atrocities for the day. I held my hands out to the vet looking like Spider-Man’s first attempt at throwing web had gone horribly wrong and mouthed the word, “Help!”. Of course the vet thought it was hilarious and handed me some baby wipes while laughing her head off at my request to be saved from my potential There’s Something About Mary moment.
As traumatic as my morning was, when I told my boss at work about my morning she laughed so hard she cried actual tears, so at least my life brings some joy to the world, even if it means I end up covered in cat s**t and dog spoof within the space of 6 hours.