I woke up at 7:00am this Saturday morning to the pleasant sound of whimpering. I carefully opened one eye to get a quick analysis of the scene. After determining that the sound was not coming from either my wife or my faithful steed, my worst fears were realized. It was coming from the dreaded Pooky, a 12 year old miniature long-haired daschund that my wife and I have been dogsitting for the past 2 weeks.
I quickly shut my eye, hoping I hadn't caught the attention of the beast, but Pooky's clairvoyance was not to be denied. Almost immediatley, I heard the distinct sound of tiny clawed feet scurrying clumsily across a wooden floor; Pooky was coming, and she was coming fast. She was on me in a flash, yipping and bouncing and whining and clawing and licking, insisting that the day was to be started. Begrudgingly, I got out of bed and prepared to take her outside.
As I stumbled into the hallway from our bedroom, I caught a glimmer of misplaced light coming from across the hall. Intrigued, I stopped to investigate. It took my mind several seconds to process what I was seeing. On the floor of the kitchen, like little golden lily pads, lay four shimmering puddles. Pooky had struck again. Four times, actually. Shocked, I tried to get my foggy mind to do the math. Pooky must have peed every two hours! As much as I like cleaning up dog urine, this may be the last time we agree to dogsit precious little Pooky.
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4 comments:
Isn't that a pleasant thing to wake up to?
Gotta love dogs....
This is right up there with stepping on a dead mouse the cat brought in....
But aren't you SO glad you were able to repay the kindness that was given you when Kramer was dogsat when you were in the States?
Stock! Just visited your blog for the first time and laughed out loud at the molesterstache! Lookin' good, as usual!
Glaze
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