I was exhausted with all the last-minute Christmas baking and wrapping. I headed to bed early. Puppy chose to sleep in her crate, rather than in the bed with me. I let her, fell into bed and fast asleep, with visions of sugarplums and happy family dancing in my head.
At 11:45, I awoke. Maybe I heard Santa on the rooftop. I got up and went to the bathroom, and when I came out…I smelled…a stench. Precious Puppy wiggled toward me out of the shadows. I did not see any Santa or stardust.
I followed the smell, wasn’t hard, to my office. Turned on the light. Oh, what to my wondering eyes? My Lord in Heaven.
Puppy had had diarrhea.
And not in one spot. She had traveled around over a fourth of the room’s carpet. The sort that splattered. Onto a box of books. It was bad.
After a full minute of looking in horror, I took a calm breath. I locked Puppy in her crate—no scolding. She is a baby and could not help it. I tiptoed downstairs, not wanting to wake up dear demented Mama and have to explain what happened, two or three or more times. From the kitchen I retrieved the mess-cleaning bucket, paper towels, and spray carpet cleaner, then tiptoed back up to clean as I could, which wasn’t very well. I succeeded more in smearing the mess.
Ah, low and behold a new Hoover rug shampooer had been delivered two days before. It sat in the box at the foot of the stairs, as if Someone had known I would need it before Christmas morning. Moving as quietly as possible again up and down stairs, I hauled it up and put it together. Those thoughtful Hoover people had supplied a bottle of rug shampoo— Merry Christmas!
I closed the door, hoping the noise would not wake dear Mama (and necessitate a lot of lost energy in explanation and calming), and figured out how to get the shampooer to work. Easy! First passes made a start. Stopped. Opened the door. Listened. No sound from dear Mama or precious Puppy. All was well. Closed the door.
I shampooed that section of carpet. Three times I emptied and refilled the appliance containers. Wow, that Hoover shampooer worked great! It gets 5 stars!
One hour and forty-five minutes after it all began, precious Puppy and demented Mama both tucked peacefully in their beds, I crawled back into mine, thinking: Merry Christmas to all, and to All a Good Night!
I must sure love that dog, and my mother.
My Touch is crate trained, she won’t sleep until the door is closed and locked. When they get the runs, give a little cottage cheese and a little pepto. That advice came from the vet.
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Thanks so much! I’m noting that. I think she got sick from a new treat I gave her. She is the first crate-trained dog I’ve had. I’m loving it.
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That story surpasses any I’ve heard! You are a good Momma to that puppy and your momma! Hugs to you and a very Merry Christmas! ❤️🎁❤️ I look forward to following along in 2015. I suspect there. Will be more puppy stories tucked into the mix! 🐶
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Thank you, Teresa, for visiting my blog. I smile to think how long you and I have been internet friends. Thank you for blessing my life. I sense in the coming year to be more active online. We’ll see what the new year brings. There will be good! Hugs, CurtissAnn
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Have to tell you that I too select a WORD of the year. In December I announced to my family that my word for 2015 would be LOVE. Couldn’t believe it when I read your word. Two years ago we choose the same word — do you remember, it was JOY. I feel we are soul mates! All the best to you in 2015. BTW loved the puppy story.
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Teresa— I am so thrilled to know you’ve chosen the same word of Love! Thank you for telling me. Suddenly I feel I have a partner on the journey. Each year I grow a bit better at focusing, listening and responding to my yearly word. I have great hopes to grow in love this year. God bless you for your journey, too.
Hugs, CurtissAnn
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