Oh S***

My standard go-to opening for a post about something going terribly wrong would usually include a diplomatic descriptor. Interesting. Challenging. Unfortunate. None of those are appropriate for what occurred at 3am last night. It was a sad horror flick. An epic battle of biology. It was a very large dog with a very bad case of Dumb and Dumber-esque diarrhea.

I'll start at the beginning. Miss Monster has been eating less each day since Husband left. She's more anxious and just all around off her game. I sympathize. Me too. Well, except for the less eating part. I opt for the other end of the emotional eating pattern scale. During our very long walk yesterday evening, I noticed her spine was just a smidge more pronounced. That just wouldn't do. I won't have the dog starving herself in protest because she's temporarily separated from her favorite human. So I decided to get creative with her next meal to see if we couldn't make some progress. I opted for a spoonful of cottage cheese on her kibble. She has had dairy before and shown no signs of lactose intolerance. I figured a small amount of the yummy treat my stimulate her enough to get some food in her belly. And it did. She made her way through dinner, albeit slowly, picking away first at the curds of goodness then giving in to the crunchy kibble. I went to bed a happy camper.

Until about 3am. I woke up out of a deep sleep, which is not all that unusual anymore. I've reached "an age" where middle of the night bathroom breaks are a regular part of the routine. As I traipsed off to use the facilities, I noticed Miss Monster was up, but again, that wasn't out of the ordinary. Despite her ginormous almost-adult size, she's still a puppy and has the benefit of unending youthful energy reserves. My return from the bathroom is where things go very, very wrong.

First, Miss Monster rushes the door when I open it. That's not a common behavior for her. While her puppy-ness tends toward some rude antics, she's overall well-behaved for her age. Plus, she had a lot of exercise that day. I managed to get her back in the room and had just shut the door behind us when she does the unthinkable. She does something I haven't seen from her since she was biologically capable of holding her body functions. She squats on the floor and deposits what I will only describe as smelly liquid horror. The shame on her face was heartbreaking. She knew she was breaking the rules big time, but couldn't help it. Her eyes pleaded with me to understand. I did. I grabbed her leash and the two of us rushed outside so she could continue what had to have been a very uncomfortable process. When she finished, we both sat on the steps to the house and snuggled faces. My poor, poor girl.

We proceeded to continue this rush outside intermittently for the next several hours. Fortunately, I was now awake and very attune to what she was telling me she needed. I did what I could in the interim to clean up the horrifically smelly mess. The disaster on the floor all but laughed at me. I did the best I could with the gross, opened a window, and turned on a fan. It at least made the room somewhat livable for the short-term. Disgusting and putrid, but survivable for a few more hours. Waking my in-laws to find the carpet shampooer was not an option. Calling husband was.

He calmed me down in minutes as only he is able to do. Just hearing his voice had me climbing down from my tree, drying my tears, and putting my focus where it needed to be - on Miss Monster. Everyone agreed last night, even sleepy disturbed Old Dog - things are just better when our little family is together. There is nothing we can't handle. Even ginormous amounts of s*** dropped on the floor in the wee hours of morning.

We woke this morning and faced the music. Again, I am reminded of how lucky I am. My in-laws are not only kind and generous, but unbelievably understanding. As I explained the middle of the night problems, my horrified confession was greeted with nothing short of gracious understanding and some much needed humor. Sigh. Not everyone would respond to "Hey, you know how my enormous dog and I have stepped in to disrupt your life for a month? Well, now there's a pile of dog s*** on the floor as proof" with such compassion. Compassion and a delicious home cooked breakfast. That's right. My mother-in-law is an amazing cook and makes me breakfast even after I confess to her about Miss Monster's disgusting episode. Calling me a lucky girl at this point might be an understatement. Husband may be located in the most beautiful place on earth at the moment, but I'm living with two of the most beautiful souls on the planet.

I'm very happy to report Miss Monster is feeling much better this morning. We're going to take it slow on the food front and see how it goes. I think it would be fair to say Miss Monster is more relieved than all of us.