Puppy Vomit, Cops and Kibble....Oh My!!

Sometimes, I just have to sit back and laugh at my life.

Let's take a quick look back to the minute I stepped through the doorway to my home last night after work.

7:20pm: Arrived home to a funky smell. No, not the dog pooped in the house smell but a different the dog did something else smell. Quick glance at the dog walker's note which read, "Sully is great.. blah, blah, blah. Had some diarrhea (outside, don't worry!).. blah, blah. Ate some sticks. Love him to pieces." Turn to look into Sully's room and see Sully caked in puppy vomit which is also strewn all over the room. Exorcist, much?

7:30pm: Rush the puppy upstairs to the bathroom. Suddenly realize that maybe an attempt at switching dog food brands wasn't the greatest idea. Throw said puppy in the tub and rinse away caked puppy vomit. Gag.

7:45pm: Briskly run-walk puppy after realizing that we're out of pre-sick-belly puppy food. Toss 65lb puppy into the car and start driving to the nearest Petsmart.

8:00pm: Knowingly run stale yellow/slightly reddish traffic light. Continue driving until noticing red and blue revolving lights pulling up behind vehicle. No embarassing "whoop whoop" siren. Whew.

8:03pm: Proceed to fumble for registration as handsome Irish Cop kindly reminds me that I blew through the red light. Fumbling for registration while trying to keep puppy from sticking head so far out the window to lick-attack Irish Cop. Oh My Goodness.

8:05pm: Irish Cop notices that I am a nurse, still clad in navy scrubs, a navy monogrammed Penn fleece and most importantly, my ID badge.

Irish Cop: You're a nurse?
AP: Yes.
Irish Cop: Where?
AP: At UPenn, in the city?
Irish Cop: What's your specialty?
AP: Oncology. Zinger.
Irish Cop: No worries about that registration. Let me go ahead and run your license, make sure everything is up-to-date.

8:15pm: Drive away from the scene of the crime with a warning. We civil servants have an unspoken respect for each other. I also looked pretty damn cute. Sully, too, except for the vomit-mixed-with-oatmeal shampoo smell.

8:25pm: Arrive at Petsmart, having carefully obeyed every single traffic rule for miles. Leave Sully in the car while running into the store for a 50lb bag of dog food and some puppy wipes.

8:35pm: Fifty dollars and ten minutes later, I'm back in the car, obeying every single traffic rule from Petsmart to W Avenue. Somehow, I manage to get lost. Damn my (lacking) sense of direction.

8:45pm: Pull in the driveway, jump out of car and attempt to maneuver extremely famished puppy and a 50lb bag of kibble into the house. Tear into kibble bag and pour Sully his dinner. Add a little 100% pumpkin as a garnish (Hello, doggie-fiber!) and set kibble bag at the top of the cellar stairs. Can you see where this is going? Where were you last night at approximately 8:50pm to tell me that isn't such a bright idea??

8:50pm: Watch in slow motion as Sullivan charges headfirst for the bag of kibble. Continue to watch in slow motion as 20lbs of dog food topples down the stairs into the depths of the creepy basement. F my life.

8:51pm-9:03pm: Inbetween fits of laughter, sweep up thousands of tiny pieces of puppy kibble. Keep in mind, foregoing the scary nooks and crannies of the creepy basement. With a handheld dustbuster that has clearly seen better days.

We've been blessed to have been living in an 85 year old house without mice thus far. Now I have images of a little mice friend calling up all his other little mice co-horts telling them, "Hey guys! Kibble party at my house!!"

Needless to say, I DVR'd Idol last night and went straight up to bed with a cup full of Mint Chocolate Chip ice cream, my Kindle and my favorite roomate in the entire world...

Pukey McKnocksAnEntireBagofDogFoodDownTheStairsButILoveEveryMinuteWithHim Pukerson.