Saturday morning I woke up at 2:30, and couldn't go back to sleep. About 3:15 I give up, and go out in the living room to read. As I walk into the living room, I smell what suspiciously smells like dog poo. "Great," I think, "I just bathed that dog last night." I let Tig out of her kennel. The newly-bathed-as-of-7-pm-last-night dog is smeared in dog poo. I let her out of her kennel, and take her straight to the bathroom for another bath. I try to sneak Payton's bedroom door closed, so he won't wake up. No luck! He wakes up. Even better, he always gags at the smell of dog poo. So, between scrubbing a poo-encrusted dog kennel, a poo-smeared dog, and trying to keep Payton from puking into the middle of the mess, I've had a great morning so far. And it's only 4:39. I need a nap.
