A Rude Awakening

**caution. The content of this blog may be overly disgusting to some readers. Read at your own risk**

Taking care of the house while my parents are gone involves taking care of the family dog. She's pretty low maintenance, usually, needing a walk or two per day and being fed when I have breakfast and dinner. Love her occasionally when she wants to be petted, and maybe give her a bath if she gets too stinky. Pretty easy right? Not this morning.

Last night, I took the dog for her walk, came home and finished my lab report, but I left the back door open for her to go outside because she hadn't pooped yet. After finishing my report, I went downstairs with some tea to watch tv before going to bed. That was when I saw it. On the rug downstairs, the dog left a nice little gift of diarrhea. Disgusting! Cursing, I went to get some towels and various other cleaning supplies and cleaned it up. I then watched tv and went to bed, praying it wouldn't happen again during the night. I figured she must have gotten it out of her system, so she should be fine. I got to sleep in today as Tuesdays are my Saturdays, and by "sleep in" I mean I woke up at 9 because I still have lots to do today and I went downstairs to get the dog. Usually I just open the basement door and go back upstairs and she catches on quickly and comes running up herself. This morning, I warily looked around the corner of the door and stepped onto the basement carpet. If she had done something last night, I was going to find it before the whole house stank. Lo and behold, there was a nice big one planted on the carpet, and a couple other little dribbles scattered on the floor. By the door was a nice little spot where she peed, and further down the hallway was another little chunk of soft poo. So gross!!!

Following the evening ritual, I said things under my breath that should not be re-spoken here, and proceeded to grab an arsenal of cleaning supplies. The whole basement reeked of dog poo. First I cleaned up the poo, then wiped down the spots with water to get it out of the carpet. Then, I grabbed my mom's carpet cleaner and intensely cleaned each spot. It doesn't smell as bad anymore, so I'm glad about that, but that was probably the most vile thing I have ever had to clean up in my entire life. I hope it never happens again, and I intend to take the dog out for as long as it takes her to poop tonight, even if it's two hours, it will be worth it.

Either that or I need to start investing in dog diapers. :P

I appologize for the gruesome post, I just needed to vent a little about it and I was craving a little sympathy. :)

Till next time

Boersma

A House To Myself

This morning I rolled out of bed, rubbed my eyes, grabbed a sweater and the car keys, loaded the car with luggage and drove my parents to the airport. Oh ya, did I mention it was 2am! Today my parents left for almost a month of travel in China. I would be lying if I said I wasn't jealous. For me, I am in the heart of the summer semester at SFU. Knee deep in homework, struggling my way through the warm, sunny midterms, grasping for a taste of summer vacation. Mine will come in August when I have two weddings to party all night at within a week of each other.

With the parents gone, the house feels vacant. I came home today praying the dog hadn't peed on the carpet, or worse. She had been left indoors all day because I was at school - all day. Every creak, every strange noise, whenever the dog barks, I perk up more than normal, suspecting the worse, and finding my imagination getting the best of me, yet again. This little taste of living on my own is a great feeling.

My dad left me with a eulogy he wrote for my grandma, just in case if something happens when they're gone. My grandma has been sick for a while, dealing with Alzheimer's disease. It has to be one of the worst and hardest ways to go in my opinion, both for the one who has it as well as for their family. My grandma doesn't recognize me anymore as her granddaughter, and that's a really hard thing to take. I've always connected really well with my grandma, we have a lot in common, and it's hard not having that same sort of connection anymore. The point of this story is, I offered to read what my dad wrote at the funeral, if it happens when they're gone. It would be really hard, but I know it would mean something to me as well as my dad. I pray that she can live at least until my parents come home, and that God will take her peacefully and painlessly home.

I'm off to bed because I am exhausted. More to come in the future.

Elly