Roo was in the doghouse yesterday! A total attack of the Dingleberries! Holy poop-patrol! All in his beautiful, feathery haunches that I usually brush with pride. Stunk the entire house up to high heaven. Ed and I were rendered incapacitated in the stench! Not sure what happened to Roo’s meticulous commitment to relieve himself outdoors, but I suspect diarrhea and an especially active dream conspired against him as he slept. Whooo!!! (Whoever said raising a puppy is a good dry-run for surviving a baby was right! Diaper pail drama!) Given Ed’s busy schedule, and my emerging homeostasis, I got the rights to the bathing of Roo. (More like an excavation of monumental proportions!) I could see Roo’s relief as I chipped away at the hitch-hiking tangle of chili peppers hanging from his hinny. He knew he stunk too… but couldn’t do much about it. Reminded me of the times I’ve dug myself too deeply into bad choices (sin?) to plow my way out, and had to cry out for Your rescue. “Dingleberries are gagging me God! Help!” And You did! The cleansing of forgiveness. New chances. Redirections. Ahhhh… freedom! Sooo Roo, we are in this dingleberry thing together and I hope to be as compassionate and gentle in my cleansing of your attack times as God is in mine!
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