Jeff and I have no kids. It's a long story and I won't bore you with the details. The thing is, since we have no kids, people who do have kids imagine that we live super-glamorous, carefree, champagne and cavier kind of lives. You know, weekends in the country, candlelit dinners, romance by a roaring fire. Yeah right.
Well, we don't have any kids, but we do have Max. And Max has allergies. Seasonal allergies. Every July and August his ears and feet get all puffy and itchy and swollen. He shakes his head and scratches his ears and chews his paws and is just plain miserable. And since candlelit dinners and champagne cocktails weren't bringing him any relief, we consulted the local vet.
The prescribed course of treatment was doggy steroids. Max took his pills obediantly for two weeks. His symptoms slowly disappeared. The treatment worked perfectly, except for one slightly annoying side effect. Doggy steroids make him thirsty. And basic doggy physiology tells us that when a dog is thirsty he will drink, and when he drinks, he will pee.
And pee he did. Despite my constant monitoring and rushing him out the door at the first sign of any pee possibility, he had one or two "accidents". And never on the el-cheapo area rug from Target. Oh no, instead, his spot of choice was the year-old wall to wall carpet in the guest room/office. The year-old white carpet in the guest room/office. The room where I blog. The room where I store my yarn. The room where my brother-in-law sleeps when he comes to visit. Hi Brian! Can't wait to see you!
So for the past month, armed with rubber gloves, paper towels, two fans and this, I valiantly battled the horrorific noxious fumes and stains. And during this time the average daily temperature has hovered around 90 degrees F. It wasn't pretty, but I just took a deep breath and I believe I am victorious.
Somebody pass the champagne.