My day could only get better!

Today started out shitty. I came downstairs to get Young'un's breakfast ready, and found piles and puddles of doggie diarrhea. Yes, poor Cling had some digestive problems again. It wasn't her fault, and I made sure she knew she wasn't in trouble. I let her out, put Young'un's waffles in the toaster, got out the margarine and the syrup, poured some orange juice, and got him out of bed. Once he was settled in at the table, I went to work with rubber gloves, paper towels, newspaper, and a dishpan full of hot sudsy water.

Cling's distress had clearly begun downstairs in the family room. Her bed was really a mess, and she'd gotten the carpet too. Then up in the front room there was a little tiny spot on the linoleum and a huge runny puddle on the shag carpet. Ain't that always the way?

So by the time I had all the floor messes cleaned up, Young'un had finished eating and had gone in to see if the mice needed food. As I was putting the dog bed into the washing machine, he came down to report that our Trixie mouse was dead. It wasn't unexpected -- she had a hellacious tumor -- but the timing couldn't have been worse. I started the washer, then went and found a small box (the kind checks come in) and lined it with a bed of paper towels. I gently lifted Trixie out of the cage and laid her in the box, petted her little head a couple of times, put the lid on, and set the box in the refrigerator to await interment.

Cling had been waiting patiently in the yard. I let her back in, gave her a carrot (good for digestion), then went upstairs and finally got ready for work. Before I left I told Young'un, "After a beginning like this, our day can only get better!" And it did. My day was kind of frustrating and fragmented, and I did a lot of digging with very little progress. But hey, none of it involved shit or death! And that was improvement enough.

Services for Trixie will be at 6:00 tomorrow evening in our back yard.