I had a dream

I had a dream last night that my dog pooped in the house. In my dream, I could smell the mess, but people talking to me in my dream assured me that it wasn't true.

When I woke up the smell was still there.

I lurched out of bed. Jack is a creature of habit, so I looked in the places where he'd "had an accident" before - in the corner of my bedroom and in the corner of my husband's office. Nothing. Jack, the culprit himself, lounged innocently in the hallway.

I stumbled to my bathroom to put in my contact lenses. Gah!

He'd found a new shit site. The linoleum and the throw rug were blotched with his droppings. Interestingly, he'd gone into the stand-up shower and performed a perfect pirouette there.

I blindly mopped up the linoleum wth paper towels and Lysol, turned on the shower, and put the rug under the spray. Then I put in my lenses.

While the shower ran, I checked the front of the house, and found that the bathroom number had been a second act. Another perfect circle of turds were in the living room corner that has been his customary "oops" place.

I banished the perpetrator to the outside deck with a chew stick and started in on this mess. I checked the shower. Everything was clean.

Then I put on some coffee.

Poor Jack. Gastric distress isn't fun. But at least he found the shower.