(Repeat until convinced.)
So. It's been all kids around here for the past little while, and you're probably wondering (or not) what's happening with the critter of the roof.
Dudley has just been coasting along, hanging out, content to romp in the yard once or twice a day, and hang out under the high chair lest there be droppings. Oh, and there WILL be droppings!
Now this has happened before, albeit on a smaller scale.
Yesterday I came home mid afternoon, after a morning of trying to entertain a baby in a car dealership while they changed my oil and my tires, and 10 errands (literally) that involved me driving all over hell's half acre. I was exhausted. Corben was starving.
So I come home, feed all that require feeding, and sit down at the computer. And *sniff.*
I recognize the smell. It smells like dirty diaper. But I know it's not the baby, so why is the smell so overpowering? My computer sits in the hallway, just outside our bedroom, so I turned into the bedroom, where the smell seemed to be emanating from.
And found the source.
An open diaper pail. (Wait for it.) It was nearly empty. The contents had been relocated, and decimated - shredded, into tiny, shitty little pieces.
Want to know where they had been relocated to, and where the massacre had taken place? (I bet you can guess.)
Yup, my bed. My unmade bed. My sheets, blankets, comforter, all covered in tiny, shitty little pieces of that stuff that you find on the inside of diapers. Yes, shit, and also those little magic expanding polymers (or whatever the hell they are.)
I called Steve, in tears. I figured it only fair to tell him that I was going to murder the dog, so he could say goodbye if he wanted to.
(Don't worry animal people, I didn't murder the dog.)
Do you know how many loads of laundry it takes to wash all the linens on my bed? Between the sheets, pillowcases, mattress cover, comforter, blankets, and comforter cover? Three. (It should really probably be four.) That's a freaking LOT of extra laundry.
Yesterday was going to be the day I caught up on the laundry. Fail.
(Oh, oh, oh...ask my why I was so behind on the laundry, go on, ask me! Because last week, Griffin peed in our bed, the dog puked in our bed a day later, and Griffin peed in his own bed twice, on two successive nights. THAT's why. And all those nights he was wearing pull-ups, he just leaks right through the useless pieces of crap.)
So, I decided last night that was the end, there was to be no more dog allowed in the bedroom. Being that there are two doors into our bedroom, it's harder than it sounds. I can't totally close off the bedroom, it gets ice cold in there if I do. So I've closed one door. Put up (ANOTHER) baby gate in front of the other (just because the baby gate Olympics wasn't challenging enough around here!) Since it's also where the diaper pail lives, this is killing two birds with one stone, since the dog can apparently now OPEN the diaper pail.
(Oh, he can also open the garbage in the kitchen, which was demonstrated once again the night before last when I came home to find an empty Sheppard's pie container shredded to pieces and licked clean on my bed. I decided that night that I could collect the pieces and fall asleep with the slight smell of Sheppard's pie wafting over me, I had had it with laundry.)
Fast forward to today. I come home from a few errands to discover a bunch of empty grape stems on the kitchen floor, and a bunch more in the middle of the living room. Something tweaks in my brain, and I head over to google to confirm.
Did you know that grapes are poisonous to dogs?
According to the vet, with his weight, and the amount he ate, he should be ok. But now I'm hanging out, watching the dog for signs of lethargy, or vomiting, or diarrhea, which would indicate acute renal failure, and a very quick drive to the vet. (Lethargy, which is not to be confused with "I'm depressed and sad-dog-face because I'm not allowed to sleep on the bed anymore.)
What with all the possibility of vomiting and diarrhea around here, it's likely a damn good thing I've barricaded the bedroom. Because dammit, there are no more clean sheets or comforters in this house!