Wednesday, August 16, 2006
Heaving With Oreo
Who's to blame? Me for leaving the gate open to the rec room downstairs? Or Oreo for chewing on a dead animal during his evening constitutional and then barfing up the remains on the rec room carpet in the middle of the night?
Frankly, my money's on the dog. But everyone else seems to subscribe to the "but for" theory of canine reponsibility - i.e. - but for my lapse in gate latching, the puking would likely have been on the easily cleanable kitchen floor rather than on the downstairs berber rug which has a decidedly higher degree of cleaning difficulty.
When I walked down the basement stairs this morning, I was greeted by two saucer-sized brown stains on the carpet, a series of splatter stains and a bunch of plant material that looked like it had spent at least several hours in a dog's stomach. It was a surprising and not particularly pretty sight.
My first reaction, of course, was to head back upstairs to wake up Cheryl to inform her of the latest heinous act committed by HER dog. She roused herself from her sleep and joined me in the rec room in our multi-pronged attack on the offending matter.
Between the soap and water, carpet stain removal and doggie odor and stain remover, we managed to eliminate most of Oreo's late night deposits. Where the brown saucer-sized stains were, there now remain two very faint yellow marks which will likely serve as a permanent reminder to me to always latch the gate at the top of the stairs.
By the way, do dogs ever grow up and go away to college? No? Pity.
Frankly, my money's on the dog. But everyone else seems to subscribe to the "but for" theory of canine reponsibility - i.e. - but for my lapse in gate latching, the puking would likely have been on the easily cleanable kitchen floor rather than on the downstairs berber rug which has a decidedly higher degree of cleaning difficulty.
When I walked down the basement stairs this morning, I was greeted by two saucer-sized brown stains on the carpet, a series of splatter stains and a bunch of plant material that looked like it had spent at least several hours in a dog's stomach. It was a surprising and not particularly pretty sight.
My first reaction, of course, was to head back upstairs to wake up Cheryl to inform her of the latest heinous act committed by HER dog. She roused herself from her sleep and joined me in the rec room in our multi-pronged attack on the offending matter.
Between the soap and water, carpet stain removal and doggie odor and stain remover, we managed to eliminate most of Oreo's late night deposits. Where the brown saucer-sized stains were, there now remain two very faint yellow marks which will likely serve as a permanent reminder to me to always latch the gate at the top of the stairs.
By the way, do dogs ever grow up and go away to college? No? Pity.
