66. how to remove a stain
An accident, a stain, a lesson, and Ann Patchett.
Having a dog is nothing like having a child. Although I haven’t had a child myself yet, from the outside, it looks like those two experiences have little to nothing in common. A baby wears diapers and cries unconsolably. A dog is there and if potty-trained, she’ll wait to go outside to do her thing. A baby grows up to be a toddler, then a child, then an adolescent, then a young adult, then an adult. A dog is there, right where she was four years ago.
However, from time to time, the two orbits of those experiences might intersect.
A couple of nights ago I woke up at 6 am to my dog squatting (the way female dogs squat in order to pee) on the brand new white rug we had recently gotten. My first reaction was to panic. I jumped, adrenaline rushing and waking all of my senses as I grabbed my dog and placed her on the rug-free floor.
The pee stain was relatively small. I rushed downstairs and took her out to the garden so she could resume her activity. “You have some unfinished business, Bonfilon”. (These days I’m calling my dog Bonfilon because I think it’s a great name and there’s no further explanation).
She didn’t seal the deal. But instead, looked at me with a guilty expression on her face. I encouraged her to “go!” a few more times before giving up and going back to the house.
Even though I still had a good amount of adrenaline running through my bloodstream, I was exhausted. So I lied back down in bed and for a few seconds life was sweet and I could go back to sleep. Until a strong odor invaded my nostrils. It was pee if you’re wondering. Right next to me, a ginormous pee stain marking my duvet cover, my duvet, and my matress cover. A pool of pee. I looked at Bonfilon, Le Dawg. She glued her eyes to the white bed linen, knowing what I was just realizing. Of course she didn’t have any more pee to spray, she’d emptied her bladder before I’d woken up to find her peeing over the brand new white rug.