It was everywhere.
More later. I don't even want to think about it right now.
But poor Stanners has some serious intestinal trouble going down and out.
All over the house.
And what better way to find it than stepping in it.
No where anyone would expect to find it...
And then Diana came out of the bedroom (I hoped the shut door meant she was spared--she has a final tomorrow), and it turns out she managed to sleep in the odor of a bedroom full of dog shit.
I'd already tried to clean 3/4 of it up, but then we double teamed it and I took the dogs to the park (too much shit to walk them....) and she managed to mop the whole floor after getting more paper towel from the garage... I had used all they had in the house for the first few piles. Well, not exactly piles. We're talking projectile diarrhea.
Who needs kids when you've got shitty dogs?
Who needs dogs when you can just borrow them and not usually have to deal with all their crap?
Borrow puppies and borrow babies, I tell you, that's the way to go.