Reality Faker

So apparently what I smelled last night when I asked "What smells like shit?" was indeed shit, more accurately shit that was shat out of my dog on the basement floor. I had originally thought it was the mountain of dishes in our sink but apparently, no. My husband called me this morning to share the news.

"So did you clean it up?"

"No."

Alright then.

I thought dogs were supposed to get less bastard-like with age? My dog had actually been improving. He stopped chewing things(more or less), he was walking better, he came when called, and he was less of a spaz in the evenings. Now, in the last few days, he's completely reverted back to the Satan-like dog he was before. Last night he chewed the rest of what little fringe was left on one side of the carpet, an empty spaghetti box from the counter, and two pages of the calendar WHICH WAS HANGING ON OUR DOOR. He runs away often(we don't have a fence at the moment) and never comes back when he's called, and he's more of a spaz than ever. When a kid on a skateboard goes by, he flat out loses it. I'm torn between wanting to use all my available strength to restrain him and wanting to just let him go and pretend we never had a dog. I'm at my whits end people!

But what makes it all worth it is knowing at the end of a long day at work, waiting for me at home, is a big pile of shit for me to clean up. Awesome.