Alternate title: the night of a million zillion crap stains.
TMI warning, BTW.
I have a basenji (or, more appropriately put, will soon used-to-have a basenji) who has some dietary problems involving malabsorption, which is a common hereditary ailment with basenjis. She’ll start having bouts of diaharrea, so we’ll get her checked out and put her on a diet and treat her nutritional deficiencies, and a few months later she’ll start having problems with that, causing us to frantically search for another dietary alternative.
(Note to self: don’t ever get another purebred dog again.)
Did I mention the constipation? Hers, I mean. She cannot do a #2 in the morning before I go to work, if she has had one the previous night. It’s like squeezing crap from a rock. (No no, not that rock, that’s just an old cow pattie, put that down.) The problem with inconsistency is it’s so inconsistent - some days she’ll do a #2 in the morning because she hasn’t done a #2 the night before. However, if she hasn’t done a #2 the night before, and she hasn’t done one in the morning, then in the 2 hours between when I walk her and when my wife walks her, she will make a mess in the house.
A couple of days ago, she did just this very thing, only she chose our daughter’s bedroom floor for the event. The entire floor. And parts of the hallway and part of our bedroom as well. (As an encore she specifically avoided crapping into the bathtub like we’ve been trying to train her to her entire life.)
I love animals, but if you make me choose between my daughter’s well-being and a dog, well, I already have my mind made up.
So we’re getting rid of her. (The basenji, I mean.) She’s about 6 years old, which makes giving her a new home difficult, but she’s a semi-rare breed and very calm around kids and other animals, which works in her favor.
Which brings me to my other dog, our beagle. When our beagle is stressed, she develops a nasty habit of eating her own feces, then barfing them up and eating them again. I rinse, she repeats.
When we handed our basenji off to relatives - to give me time to catch up with the cleaning and daily life stresses and whatnot - our beagle became lonely, then depressed, then stressed. Within about 12 hours she was doing the Tecnhicolor Jackson Pollack across the living room carpet.
It’s an art. She had a wildly successful second showing, overnight, quietly satisifying her nervous tic in the dog bed.
(Note to self: never ever again get a purebred dog. Never. Ev-er. The sun will go out, and the universe will be swallowed by a ravenous star goat, before I ever get another purebred dog.)
In short, this morning I was almost late to work, and when I arrived I was sweaty from all the scrubbing, and carried with me the faint but distinguished aroma of Resolve spray, dog poop and stomach fluids. I skipped breakfast, and I don’t think I’m going to eat lunch. And my beagle will soon be used-to-be mine.
On the whole, I feel pretty down about this.