For the next two weeks I have a couple of house guests. We’re doing a favor for one of Mark’s friends.


You know that I’m not a small dog person, but these guys are pretty sweet and sociable. They like to sit on the couch and chill with us. That makes little dogs a lot more bearable. They’re not hyper and barky/yappy like a lot of little dogs.

I got up first thing in the morning to let the dogs out back and opened the back door to the most god-awful smell. When I walked into the bar there was shit everywhere! This is the reason that we’re having them sleep in the bar, but I was hoping it wouldn’t have been necessary. I started cleaning up the poop (running poop, I might add) and noticed that it didn’t quite look right. I turned on an extra light and my worst fears were realized.

Blood. There was a lot of blood in the shit.

It was all I could do to keep my gag reflexes under control as I cleaned it up. I went through a whole roll of paper towels just getting the loose stuff up, which doesn’t mean the floor was clean. I went and immediately took Jake out of the yard with them and put him back upstairs because I had no idea what was going on. Not only that, I had no idea which dog was having issues. But with Jake’s age, I certainly wanted to keep him separate from them.

Once I got Jake taken care of I headed back downstairs with bleach. I bleached the shit out of the bar floor. Literally! Then I went and told Mark that he needed to call the dogs’ owner and tell him about the blood. J told Mark that they had just had their final treatment for Heartworms. Yikes!

Do you know that when a dog is being treated for heartworms they’re supposed to remain calm? Yeh. That’s right. Calm. Wanna know what their night was like? Mark was playing fetch with Balboa (the fat one). Up and down the hall Balboa ran. Chasing the fish. Bringing it back to Mark. Chasing the fish. Bringing it back to Mark. For 20 minutes they played this fun game. When I got home from volleyball the dogs were lying on the couch, exhausted.


This is what he did most of the evening after a morning of bloody pooh. I guess I should be glad that his over-exertion resulted in bloody shit rather than a clot of dead worms straight to the lungs. The last thing I need is to have a dead dog by the time J returns from his vacation.

It’s gonna be a LONG two weeks!