Colorado. Runner. Yogi. Fucking hilarious, like, 17% of the time.

Two nights ago, I walked from the bathroom to my bedroom, ready to crash. When I was about to climb in, I noticed a big yellow pool of ... something. Something sort of ... viscous. And sticky looking. One dog was sitting on the floor, looking contrite, and the other was in the corner licking herself.

Being the stellar detective I am, I blamed the contrite looking dog (and assumed it was throw up). I took both girls outside, just in case, and then shoved sheets and blankets and a mattress bad into the washer, remade the bed, and went to sleep.

Last night, the other dog - the uncontrite looking dog - peed on the bed while I was sitting on it.


This is immediately after I'd remade it with the comforter from the night before.

I'm stymied. Was it pee, the first night? Was it Cloey the contrite? Was Maida just smelling something that I couldn't and assuming that the bed was now an ok place to pee? Or was it Maida the first night as well? Is she punishing me for something?

In a very closely related note, how on earth does anyone parent?

still rock and roll to me

so there was this thing