FLAT TIRES AND DOG SCAT. Pt. 3 & Afterward

As I navigated my five mile trek home, I opted to walk most of the way, but mounted the bike and coasted when gravity would allow; (as there were several downhill grades along the pathway upon which I was contending.Did I mention that there is a difference between biking and walking in terms of the muscles, ligaments and tendons upon which one depends for each activity? (Well, there is).

The further I walked, the more my right hip socket proclaimed it. While I was not in any real pain, the joint was a bit inadequate for the task at hand, and with each passing mile my speed decreased exponentially. Thankfully, when I sensed the need for a break, it seemed I reached the crest of a hill, and I remounted the bicycle and coasted a couple hundred feet.

And then, finally,

…I was home!

Having installed my bike on my unenclosed front porch, I summoned the key from my pocket, opened the front door, and

…inhaled a breath of (anything but) fresh air

Did I mention I am the proverbial father of a one dog and the equally proverbial grandfather of another? (Well, I am). For you see, our beloved, Shih Tzu, Queenie, is approaching 13 now, and we are currently pooch-sitting our daughter’s 2 year old Chihuahua, Toby. (I suppose that makes Queenie Toby’s adoptive aunt).

At any rate, when I opened the door, I knew. I just knew.

One or both of our four-legged critters had had an ‘accident.’ As a matter of fact, I quickly discovered I was standing in the accident. Literally. Since directly under my two feet were four piles of, well, ‘you know what.’

I could tell this was a job for ‘Mr. Clean.’ A couple of pieces of tissue paper would not begin to address this calamity! Retrieving two ‘pooch rags’ from under the bathroom sink, and drenching them in copious amounts of H2O, I immediately cleaned the ‘processed dog food’ off our Italian tile foyer floor. 

Having completed this less than desirable task, I retrieved the citrus-scented air freshener from the nearest kitchen cabinet, and unloaded copious amounts of it into my foyer, and living room. 

Something, however, …was still ‘rotten in Denmark.’

And putting my proverbial pooch potty private eye hat back on, my momentary safari led me into my office. And right there, ‘in all its glory’ was, you guessed it,

…two more piles of ‘you know what’ on my carpet!

And while I might have used the four letter word which refers to the nasty brown stuff, …I didn’t. 

But needless to say, I wasn’t ‘a happy camper.’

I merely did something akin to what I had previously managed to do, and proceeded to ‘clean up the evidence of the crime.’

Afterward

Having navigated the previous calamitous events, and settled in for my morning’s nap, (for I rarely sleep at night), I awoke with a story, a song, and a smile.

And it occurs to me that with all the horror in the world, murder and mayhem, disease, destruction and depression, and trouble, trial and turmoil that in the scheme of things,

…I had a very good night. 

Yes, a very good night, indeed

I may never think of flat tires and dog scat the same way again.

By William McDonald, PhD. Excerpt from "(Mc)Donald's Daily Diary" Vol. 46. Copyright pending

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