She's baaaaaaaaack!

My Mexico vacation was freaking fantastic! Got back on Sunday evening. Crappy point-n-shoot pics to come when I get my act together. Oh yes, and no friends were lost in the process (three of us sharing one hotel room for a week... I had my doubts!).

Coming home to see Hubby was THE BEST EVER. Ohhhhh, just seeing him in the airport was bliss. I missed this man, more than words can say. I love you SO MUCH, my Hubinator.

Puppies were *very* excited to see me, and I was excited to see them. My little suck, Kingsley, would not leave my side all evening.

Yesterday... not so good. On the one hand, it was a day to celebrate because it was exactly one year ago that we first met Kingsley and decided to adopt him. On December 7th, it will be his Gotcha Day, one whole year of him living with us!

However, Kingsley ended up getting sick yesterday. I'm an IDIOT. I knew after his HUGE pudding poop in the morning (this dog has bowels of steel otherwise, he never gets diarrhea) that we had a problem. But I couldn't pull a sickie my first day back to take care of him. So I went to work yesterday.

UGH, I'm such a duncehead... I should have called my mumsie and asked her to let him out midday... But I didn't. I left work early, got home at 4:00.

There was shit all over my kitchen. And puke. And more shit. And a disgusted looking Tino standing underneath the kitchen table, looking at me like "What took you so long to come home, you stupid cow?". Aaaaaaaaaand, just to escalate my fear a little bit more, the poor dog had charged the baby gate at an attempt to get to the back door. Which means he got access to THE CARPETED BASEMENT. Ohhhhhhhhh, the FEAR chilled me to the bone when I realized he was down there...

Shit-shit-shit. I left one (or maybe two) very colourful and entertaining voicemail(s) for Hubby.

(Luckily, no harm done in the basement, he just snoozed on the couch in [dis]comfort, apparently).

So, I let them both out to the backyard, where more projectile poo ensued. And then projectile vomiting. Dog ownership is not pretty sometimes, my friends.

Being that Kingsley is never sick like this, I decided to rush him to the vet. Only to be told that he seems perfectly fine and it's likely stress diarrhea.

STRESS DIARRHEA? I just came back from Mexico, I'm the one that's supposed to have diarrhea. In fact, I think I had a little stress diarrhea myself last night, out of sympathy.

So, my favourite doggie-pharmaceutical was dispensed (three cheers for Metronidazole!) and all is calm on the poo front.

It took me almost two hours to clean the kitchen floors, kitchen cupboards, that little strip underneath the kitchen cupboards, the baseboards, their fluffy doggie bed, etc. It was a whole lotta bleach and Nature's Miracle, my friends.

Of course, in my typical fashion, I took some pictures of the poo-and-vomit encrusted surfaces of my kitchen. Are you ready for show and tell?

Well, I'm not. I decided the pics are simply too vulgar to show in polite company. So, instead, you get a (recycled, previously posted, please-forgive-me-dammit-I-cleaned-up-poo-last-night-for-two-hours) picture of me, and my two favoritest doggies in the world... one my most favorite memories from the dog park this summer:



It is lightly snowing right now. My mumsie is going over to our house at lunch to let the poopers out.

And I am welcoming myself back home. Was I really sitting on the beach in my bikini reading trashy novels at this exact time only two days ago?