Surprise! And Welcome Home

The snow started falling in the mountains late Monday night and by late Tuesday afternoon, flakes began to fall along the Front Range.

[ed. note: The ‘Front Range’ is Colorado-speak for east of I-25. Here’s another tidbit of info: Half of Colorado is high plains; the Denver half. Denverites (and all Coloradans, for that matter) love to say that they are a western state, but when you stand in Denver and look east, it looks a hell of a lot like the Midwest. Flat.]

From my client’s office window, I watched the snow fall and decided that I’d knock off earlier and beat the traffic home.

I waltzed into the house, wondering what I would do with an extra two hours. Sauntering back to let The Beej out of his kennel, I noticed an odd smell.

Last night was not a particularly restful one. The Beej was up most the night, pacing around. Which woke P.Pie up, who in turn turned on almost all the lights in the house and started clanging pans together as she did the dishes.

At 3 o’clock.

In the morning.

I was upset, but I figured it was good practice for the twins.

Okay, back to the odd smell.

The closer I got to the kennel, the stronger the smell got. Apparently, the reason The Beej was pacing all night was because he didn’t feel well.

At some point during the day, he threw up in the kennel.

Judging by the viscosity of the liquid and film over the top of the puke, it was early in the day.

I think it goes without saying The Beej was anxious to get out of the kennel.

My plan – the best laid kind – was to grab him as he came out of the kennel and gingerly carry him out.

[second ed. note: The Beej is a two year-old half German Shepherd, half Greyhound mutt. He’s big. He’s fast. He’s spastic.]

Let’s just say the plan didn’t work out.

Instead he bolted around me and onto the bed. I spun around in time to see him run across the bed, through the living room, into the kitchen and to the back door.

All with wet, puke covered feet.

Long story long, I spent three hours cleaning the carpet, the kennel, the hardwood, the tile, the dog, and changing the sheets.

In that order.

Seriously, they’re going to let me take the twins home? Alone?