Monday, June 28, 2010

Pets are so much fun!

Our weekend didn't exactly go as planned, thanks to PetSmart. How can that be? I hear you cry.

Last Sunday we stocked up at PetSmart; about 6 months worth of dog food, lots of chews (they were half price so I really stocked up!), a packet of liver sticks (our dogs bedtime treat), and a box of Milk-o-Mars (dog biscuits - they get one of those in the mornings when they go outside for the day). It was a pretty penny, but who ever said having healthy, happy pets was cheap, especially not when one weighs 110 lbs. The bags of dog food went into the garage, the chews into the pantry and the liver sticks and biscuits into the dog cupboard, in the kitchen. That was last Sunday. Friday night I noticed a little maggot in the draw above the dog cupboard where we keep our tin foil and sandwich bags and stuff like that. Just one, so I killed it. I was a little perturbed as we got these little critters last year from the Farmers Market on Old 7; you may remember reading about it on my blog, how I had to throw away lots and lots of flour and rice, and buy lots of locking tuperware to keep all of my new groceries safe. So obviously, I didnt want to have to go through that again, but couldnt for the life of me work out where they were coming from. Then neither dog ate anything all day saturday, and when I gave Tux his biscuit he took it, put it down on the floor and walked away from it. Since when did my dog not eat his treat?! They both showed evidence of having majorly upset stomachs. Then saturday night, as I went to get their bedtime treats, I noticed lots of little maggot-beasties. Lots. We took everything out of the dog cupboard and low and behold, it was teeming, with the highest proportion in the biscuit box. Ugh. So at 11pm saturday night, way past my bedtime, we were hauling things out onto the driveway (we didnt even want them in the garage) and spraying bleach all over the cupboard. I got up early sunday morning and donned my pink rubber gloves, grabbed a bucket of bleach water and a scrubby brush, setting to work on the walls, sideboards and cupboards. Ugh. We popped out for breakfast and finished the job throughout the rest of the day. Somehow Im still finding about 5 per morning to kill, but I have no idea where they are coming from as we havent put anything back in the cupboard yet, just incase and had thrown out all of the tinfoil and baggies and stuff. Hopefully this will be over soon, I dont really know what else to do. Ive bleached everything and taken the stuff outside, they must just be hiding in unreachable places. I even found two hiding on the underside of my sewing machine case, sneaky buggers.

Oh, and the other eventful thing that having dogs brought into play recently happened friday morning... we did everything as normal, as we do every day... I got up early, opened the garage door, dogs walked to the mailbox while I put my sneakers on... usually at this point they come back and get in the car and we go for a walk; instead, they took off. Then I heard sounds like a dog was dying, or at least in my head. I worried, for a minute, that they were ripping a neighbours dog to pieces, then I realised that was irrational and I started to check my veggies. Tux walked back to the driveway to see what I was up to, and wandered off again. Still it sounded like there is a dog dying in the woods, but there was no way I was walking off into the woods. 15 minutes later, Mojo comes sauntering into the garage covered in sand and blood, holding the biggest armadillo I ever imagined he could carry. It was almost the size of him! He dropped it down on the floor and wandered over to me to try and rub up against me, as he was very obviously proud of his kill. Closer inspection revealed its little tongue hanging out the side and its guts spewing all over the garage floor. Lovely. I couldnt tell him off, no matter how disgusting having armadillo parts on your garage floor at 7am was, he was just doing what dogs do and wanted me to be proud of him. Bless. So I had to go wake Danny up! Oh dear. He came wandering out in his boxer shorts, no glasses, inspected the mess, swore, went inside to get changed and came out with my pink rubber gloves on... He then had to take the dead animal and throw it into the creek, clean Mojo (Ive never seen a dog get scrubbed with a scrubby brush before!), he even cleaned Tux (who was not amused as he obviously had not been involved but had been watching and got caught in Mojo's sand cross fire!) and then bleach the blood up off the garage floor, all before 730am from the man who doesnt get up early! Oh dear. He was very good natured about it, I must say! The funny thing was that despite usually hating baths, you could almost see a smile on Mojo's face during his scrubbing down as if to say, 'it was still worth it!'.

Ain't having pets fun!

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