Is that pudding?

After the initial "incident", Joe and I decided the clear answer to our problem with Flip was more exercise and pick up the paper products from around the condo. We dutifully picked up everything and went to work, like usual, the next day. Again, at approximately 6pm, I received a text message from Joe. This time, it was simply a picture text message. The 2nd third of our still-standing Christmas tree was in shambles, a number of ornaments were now fragments of glass and Flip had decided he liked the Cinnamon-scented decorative pine cones that we kept near the fireplace.

Later that night, Joe and I went to bed early. We both had to get up before 5 and wanted a good nights sleep. At approximately 4am, Joe got up for work. At 5am, I woke up. As I always do, I checked my phone right away - I had 2 texts from Joe. The first text said "Flip sh*t all over the floor. I cleaned it up." The second text was a picture of said sh*t. It looked like black pudding. Black chunky pudding. Black chunky pudding that Joe had to pick up with cardboard.

When I opened the bedroom door, I immediately started gagging. Let me educate you, my 3 loyal readers: when a dog eats scented pine cones, what comes out does not smell like the original scent. I spent the next hour walking Flip to ensure that "everything" was "out" of his system (it wasn't). I then spent the next 30 minute bleaching every square inch of the kitchen and cross-ventilating the condo. Mind you, it was approximately 20 degrees outside. My most special memory of the morning was bleaching out the outside trash can so the garbage would actually take it away. I spent a solid 30 minutes dry heaving as I tried to get the stench out of the can. Flip watched me from the garage door like I was crazy. When I was finished, I sent out the panic email to my friends "in the know" asking for advice about Flip.

My dog friends wisely suggested a crate. I decided I was going to get a baby gate. You know - those things that stand all of 3 feet high. So I decided to go to some store that I will never return to again: "Buy Buy Baby" . . .