Tuesday, September 29, 2015

Maybe some comic relief (or: how to clean up after an old dog)

Poor little Piper is 16 years old now.  He turned 16 on 09/10/2015.

I made him a hat and took a picture.  The picture is a bit blurry, but he doesn't see well anymore, and neither do I.

Now that he is 16, he stumbles some.  Many of his teeth have fallen out.  His hips and hind haunches are extremely thin, and he often walks with his tail down, slowly, as though it hurts.  He seems to have more discomfort in the evening.  In the morning he is still quite chipper and eager for his breakfast, but in the evening he limps around looking forlorn.

He also tends to have accidents in the evening, if we are not vigilant.

The other day, after the sun went down, we were tired.  Not quite at the top of my game, myself, I decided to start the long ordeal of getting ready to close down house for the night.  Evening medications for people and dogs, the last tidying of the day, brushing teeth (even Schubert's), washing and applying wrinkle cream (to the lone female in the house), etc. etc.

Honestly, sometimes I don't go to bed simply because I am too tired to get ready for bed (but that is an aside).

During the aforementioned process, Shawn walked through the kitchen and got a wet sock.

Getting a wet sock is not a happy occasion. It happens when a dog has wet on a patterned rug, and camouflaged it.  You step on it with your stockinged foot, and suddenly your sock is sadly wet.  And gross.

For this very reason, we own a Bissell Little Green Machine.  Well, we bought the Bissell when Schubert was a puppy, but it was the same reason.  It shampoos rugs, or, more accurately, it allows me to suck a vinegar solution through a soiled rug and neutralize dog urine.  We had many years when we did not need to use it.  Now we are needing to use it sometimes.

Unfortunately, it is broken.

Shawn stood, aghast, with his wet sock elevated on his foot in the air.  He was not happy.  I figured it would behoove me to overcome my late-night aching and fatigue, and do a good job cleaning up the unfortunate event.

Since I couldn't use my Bissell Little Green Machine, I assembled approximately twelve large towels.  First I put a few towels both under and over the rug, and then I did a little dance atop the pile, to soak as much liquid out of the rug as as possible.

Then, I simply mixed up a solution of water and white vinegar and poured it through the rug over yet more towels.

Finally, I used even more towels to soak the vinegar solution out of the rug.  I danced a bit more; perhaps not my most happy, enthusiastic dance.

As an epilogue, I started up a large laundry load of towels, and tented the treated rug over an empty laundry basket so it could dry.  I was done.

However, the kitchen was still a bit out of order.   I bustled about, sticking dishes into the dishwasher, sorting mail and stacking paperwork to be dealt with in the morning.

Two glasses stood on the table with small amounts of water in them.  I wasn't sure which was mine, and which was Shawn's; I thought I'd finished my drink from dinner and put my glass into the dishwasher.  I grabbed the glass that was nearly half full, wondering why there was atypically more water than usual remaining.

As I walked over to the sink, I figured I might as well drink it up.  It's always good to keep up my fluids.  Just as I tilted the glass back and knocked down a huge gulp, I caught a whiff.  It was my vinegar solution, that I'd been pouring over the rug.

Of course it was too late.  I ended up spewing vinegar water from my mouth all over the kitchen floor.

Heroically remaining calm, I got my Swiffer Wet Jet out of my broom closet (I will be eternally grateful for this broom closet), and I washed the kitchen floor.

When Shawn came through the kitchen later, he asked, "Why did you wash the kitchen floor?"

Why, indeed.

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