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Fergus MemeToday’s topic seems self-explanatory. It was not the topic I had intended to write about today, but when I woke up at 5:30 this morning and found what looked like a crime scene in my kitchen, I decided to purge my system here. Sorry about that. I will spare you the before picture.

Two things. Thing One is that Fergus is a really good puppy and almost always does his thing outdoors. I, however, maintain a litter box indoors for those times when the weather is inclement or when his mom is too distracted to notice him waiting patiently by the door. Occasionally when he assumes the position in the box for the more tangible form of … okay, let’s call it what it is, poop … his aim can be a tad off and, while he is on the inside of the box, the poop falls outside onto the rubber mat that is there for that very purpose.

Many of you who know me know that I have a “nose for this sh*t”, can smell it from three rooms away, and usually scoop it up promptly and flush it. It seems I was oblivious last night and stealthy poop sat waiting next to the litter box for disaster to strike.

Thing Two. I have a Roomba that I have programmed to run each night at 1:30 a.m.* to gather up the garden detritus that Fergus and I track in every day, as well as dog hair and the odd paper clip.

Do you see where this is going?

Yeah, that was Fergus’ reaction too.

At 5:35, I donned my rubber gloves and, armed with Formula 409™, Nature’s Miracle™, a wet Swiffer™, a half roll of paper towels and assorted tools (old toothbrush, dentist picks and needle-nose pliers, to list a few), set about scrubbing the swoops and swirls of dried puppy poop off my stone floor and cleaning all the nooks, crannies, gears, rollers, sweeper thingies on the bottom of the Roomba (that had called it a night after getting slimed).

Roomba

Looks pretty good, but it remains to be seen if it will ever work again. Fergus and I have tacitly agreed not to discuss it.

Birthday boy

Gratuitous pic of Fergus celebrating his 1st birthday on Saturday

*Why do I run the thing in the middle of the night, you ask? Because Fergus and I both get annoyed with it and prefer to sleep through the random bumping and whirring. It’s always an adventure in the morning to see if it made it back to base or if we must go on a hunt for it.

 

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