One of the little luxuries I have been enjoying lately is the fact that I don't have to take the dogs, Link and Yoshi, out on leashes in the morning. When R. and I lived at our apartment, it was my responsibility every morning at dark o'clock to get two wiggling furry bodies out of their crate, clipped into leashes, and out the door without too much fuss. The morning business routine went something like this:
Yoshi: Pees immediately on bush by front door.
Link: Pulls leash, sniffs into the neighbor's bushes because something amazing is in there.
Yoshi, Pees into neighbor's bushes.
Link: Continues to sniff bushes.
Me: Yanks dogs away from bushes. Walks down path with dogs. Sees other dog coming. Turns corner immediately, hoping to avoid barking.
Yoshi: Steps into grass, twirls and squats in prime poop position.
Link: Sees a shadow move. Immediately pulls leash to investigate.
Yoshi: Gets yanked away from prime poop spot. Will not re-attempt for 10 minutes.
Link: Poops in grass.
Me: Bends down, picks up poop.
The whole process would always take at least 15-20 minutes of walking along the winding concrete paths in the glow of the orb-shaped street lamps. Now, all I have to do is open the garage door into the backyard and they are free to do their business unsupervised. We just have to remember to do poop duty before the little nephew wants to play on the lawn.
Ah, the joys of living in a house. With a washer and dryer only steps away.
Trust me, you always take that laundry convenience for granted until you have to actually pay for it and lug heaping laundry baskets up a hill to the laundry room.
And having that convenience sure came in handy the other morning. Since my early morning business routine with the dogs is now only a few minutes long, we have more time to cuddle on the couch while I drink my coffee. And that's just what we were doing when suddenly Link started to retch, and before I could pull him off the couch, he emptied the freshly-consumed contents of his belly all over it. Mushy brown pellets pooling on and in between the cushions.
Great. Barely five sips into my coffee and I am so not ready to clean up dog vomit.
But I do.
I grab mushy brown chunks of it with paper towels and throw as much of it as I can in the trash. I grab the pet cleaner and scrub where it leaked onto the spring cover. I carefully unzip the cushion covers and throw them in the washing machine. Good, there's enough time for them to wash and dry before I have to leave for work.
As the machine starts to fill with water, I'm reminded of how many times my parents cleaned up my vomit when I was a kid. I can vividly recall one dark night when at least two of us had a horrible stomach bug and they were cleaning up one barf mess after another.
I will never forget the exhaustion in my dad's voice when he turned on the light to see that I had barfed all over my covers and pillows while I was sleeping. Groggily, I asked him, "did I throw up?" and he sighed and said "yes, you did..." and without complaint started to clean me, my covers, and my pillows for what had to be the second or third time that night. I wonder if I ever thanked him.
Every parent, whether you have dog children or human children, has to deal with vomit. And it never comes at an ideal moment. Sure, you can try to make them barf onto the hardwood floor, or into the toilet or a bucket, but even that is a gamble. Vomit just has a way of getting everywhere.
And it's in the cleaning up of vomit that we truly show our love. Because vomit is never anyone's fault... it's just the way bodies are built to eject things that don't agree with its insides. I know I will clean up piles and piles of vomit before I'll be so old I'll need someone to clean up my own vomit again. And I'm actually looking forward to it, because things can always be cleaned and made fresh. And all the times that vomit does happen are so tiny compared to the times that it doesn't.
It's really our actions that tell of our character. If my dad had lost his temper at me because of something my sick little self couldn't control, that would have had a negative lasting impression on me. But the love he showed in spite of his exhaustion helped me find my own strength of character when it was my turn to clean up the vomit.
And I'm so glad I have people who love me through the gross moments in life.
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