(no subject)
I woke up this morning to a disaster.
The dog vomited, pissed, and shit all over the house. When I mean all over the house, I mean
ALL
OVER
THE
HOUSE.
I woke up at 6, smelling something awful. I opened my door - and mom screamed from down the hall, "DON'T WALK OUT THERE"
I queried as to why, and then looked down. There was piss surrounding my door, so I took a step back, closed the door, and decided to walk out the other door from my bathroom. I opened the door, and was greeted at 6AM by the overwhelming smell of vomit and shit:
And that was just one room of the house. It was like that in every room save for the kitchen and playroom. Vomit in the living room. Shit in the study. MORE shit in the entryway.
I silently bent over to help mom, covering my face. I saw tears on her face but I said nothing. She's so tired, and so am I. Heaps of family problems combined with a dog so problematic that we cannot even board him are eating at us. Dad is moronic - he seems unable to do much more than sit around and watch, or complain about the smell. It's so bad that I nearly threw up upon walking into the living room. The whole place stinks of bile and stomach acid.
And yet, Dad is talking about getting another dog the day Mackenzie dies. Mom has flown into a rage more times than I can count at the mention of that.
As beautiful as life is, at times it can be one of the most unpleasant things in the world.
Ahh, my antidepressants are kicking in...