Puke, Pee, and Poop

You should see me in the mornings. I get out of bed, fan my hand blindly over my bedside table to find my glasses (heaven help me when I knock them off – the task of finding them just got harder by ten fold – I swear God gets a good laugh out of it) and stab them onto my face, grab my land-mind detector device (my phone in flashlight mode), and proceed down the hallway and into the kitchen very slowly swinging the LMDD from side to side, lighting up the floor in splotches until I reach the kitchen light switch. Once there I can take a deep breath and wipe the nervous sweat from my brow.

But even with the use of a LMDD, there are still unfortunate times when I step in pee puddles. I know they’re there, I just don’t know where, though they are placed in strategic high traffic unavoidable places. You would be surprised how hard these land-minds are to find, blending in to the terrain as they do. You must be right on top of them to see them, and by that time it’s usually too late – you have a soaked sock (shame on you if it’s a two soaker – you shouldn’t be moving that fast). I cleaned up 3 pee puddles already today – and it’s not even 9am.

We’re at the point on Molly’s life where we have to start thinking about when. When do we give her her last meal? Sometimes I’d like to take her out back with gun.

Seriously though – when do you know it’s time? She must have arthritis – she has a stiff and slow walk many times. But she’s still walking. Heck, on her good days she goes off to visit our neighbors. Unfortunately she returns. She is practically blind and deaf. She has acid reflux and dementia. I just wish I’d wake up one morning and shine my Land Mind Detector Device on her still body, knowing she settled the question on her own.

Molly-the-dog is feeling her 14.5 years.