Tis the season to be jolly unless a certain dog found the most disgusting pile of wotnot to roll in. It was so bad that B could smell it and he has no sense of smell at all! He came clean in the bath.
Then, just as we were going to bed, blech! Murphy threw up on Brians quilt. Sigh. We brought him downstairs and into the garden. He had a lovely bark. Sigh. Called him back inside and he ran to the Number One Bed and threw up in that. Sigh. Back outside and he did a wee. He came in, seemed ok so we all trooped back to bed. Then he threw up on his own bed.
Washing isn't a problem, I have a machine to take care of that, but getting this stuff dry is a nightmare. None of it will fit in the tumbler so I have two beds draped around the hot water tank and a quilt draped over the airing cupboard door. Last time I did that I had a big fight with it on a nocternal wander to the backroom. Deep Joy.
Still, it IS the season to be jolly and I am really. Tra la la la laaa, la la la la
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