In my dream I smelled dog poop. It was cloying and overpowering; I looked for it, couldn't find it. Slowly I awoke to find it wasn't a dream. It was a living nightmare. Diarrhea all over my bedroom floor--and the icing on the poop cake was a big pile of pee as well. Q sat there looking sad. It was diarrhea so I couldn't even yell.
6:15 AM and I cleaned up poop and pee for more than 20 minutes. Turned on the news as I started to get ready for work. Local news wasn't on. I was confused. Then I looked at my watch again. Instead of 6:45 it was 3:45. Sweet reprieve. I put her on the bed with me to stop any future ideas she might have and slept for a few more hours.
I'm not in the office the next three days. Am at the Imperial Palace Resort Casino for a Hurricane Conference, sponsored by MEMA (the Mississippi version of FEMA). Should be interesting.
Q is staying at Doggy Day Care overnight because after the conference there's a board meeting I need to attend from 6:30 until whenever. I thought she'd have a better time at Doggy Day Care instead of being alone all night.