November 19th — WTP (What the Pumpkin?)

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November 21, 2012 by hookershorde

November 19th, 2012 – WTP (Why the Pumpkin?)

 

Stepping out of the shower on Sunday, I heard a crunch and a clang downstairs.  I slipped into my chenille Sacramento Kings bathrobe and bounded down the fifteen steps where Faith, my 90-pound Bernese Mountain Dog, with as much of her nose as she could fit in a can of pumpkin.

 

Mr. Sunny Sunny Bun Bun (a toy poodle with Cushing’s Syndrome), the latest addition to our horde, prefers his thyroid pill hidden in pumpkin.  So, all the dogs get a spoonful on breakfast and dinner.

 

I made the mistake of leaving the can on the counter before taking my shower.

 

No big deal.  I took it from Faith and moved on with my day.

 

Then, on Monday, after feeding the horde, for some reason, I glanced up. 

 

There were orange splatters on the ceiling!

 

When the marauder snuck the can off the counter, she knocked it to the floor and it blew all the way to the white ceiling.

 

A few months ago, I installed a $1,200 doggy door.  It eliminated my coming home to puddles or piles.  Instead, I came home to find daffodil bulbs piled on the sofa.  Faith dug up ALL of the bulbs in the backyard.

 

Finally, it snowed.  A lot.

But, then, because it’s November, it rained.  Now, under the deck, there’s mud.  Faith has taken to digging in it and padding through the house leaving dirty paw prints.

 

After a day filled with eighth graders followed by Cubing Club (a club where children solve Rubix Cubes), I was tired. 

 

I came home, plucked the Clorox wipes from the plastic cylinder and wiped up the mud.

While I blanched the green beans for Mr. Sunny Sunny Bun Bun, he barked.  For some reason, I looked up and saw pumpkin on the ceiling.

 

Lazy, I tried using the Swifter.  I tried standing on my tip toes to reach and rub the ceiling.  Then, I pulled over a dining room table chair. 

 

Still, no luck.  It wouldn’t scrub off with the Swifter.

 

Finally, I dragged the 6-foot ladder in from the cold garage, climbed up and rubbed with a rag.

The whole time I wondered, why does this happen to me?  WTP?  (What the pumpkin?)

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