Mango poo - EVERYWHERE!

Oh......my......God. This has been a heck of a day. I picked Mango up at the vet first thing this morning - she was spayed and had a dew claw removed. So when we came home I brought Mango and Nutmeg into the babygated kitchen with me and began working on getting the chili verde going in the slow cooker. Mango was whiny, but I figured she just wanted a chance to run around after all of the crate time she had at the vet. Chilis roasted in the oven and onions were being chopped, the air was filled with the smell of roasting peppers and tomatillos.

Nutmeg kept getting under foot but wouldn't move away from my feet. I couldn't figure out why she was refusing to move away from the corner when I pushed her out of the way. I turned to move her again and froze in horror. There was a reason that Nutmeg wouldn't step away from the corner and that Mango had been whining for her freedom. It looked like a tomatilla, serrano pepper scented shit bomb exploded in my kitchen. Mango finally gave up on my listening to her and let loose with diarrhea under the kitchen table on Nutmeg's bed. She then proceeded to walk through it with her freshly bandaged foot (dew claw removed) and smeared it on every inch of my kitchen floor. Thanks to the peppers and onions, the smell was masked and I hadn't recognized we had a little bathroom emergency going on.

With the unhappily given help of my 14 year old son, we cleaned Mango up the best we could, crated her and then called the vet. No - she couldn't have a bath. Yes - they would rebandage her foot for me. So after giving my son orders to clean the dog blankets the best he could and get them in the washer. I jumped in the car and was heading back to the vets.

Once the vet finished with her I headed back to the hellish job of cleaning my kitchen. I had to mop the place three times before I felt like it was clean. Everything had to be doused in antiseptic cleaner. Now the floor is clean enough to be eaten off of, although I wouldn't recommend it. Then it was on to getting the poopy blankets washed.

The whole fiasco ate up several hours of my day and as much as I wanted to be angry at that crazy puppy, I only had myself to blame. She tried to tell me, but I was too enveloped in the fog of roasting chilis to listen. This is one of those days that I know I'll laugh about in the future, but not yet. It's just way too soon.