What’s that smell?

This is long, but it just has to be.

Since about the time we moved into our new place, we have been getting whiffs of something that staaaanks. We keep Norman’s poop in poop bags in a stainless steel trashcan in the backyard. It really cuts down on the smell and though yes, I go through a lot of poop bags, (they’re biodegradable!) I clean up the poop every time resulting in a pristine and poop-free yard. Just how I like it.

So it smells. Terribly. We think it’s coming through the windows, maybe from our other neighbor’s trash- but have now deduced it is not our dog poop trash. But it has that reallllly old, stale poop/trash smell. We were talking to our neighbor (who lives above us) about it and she was saying that she had been smelling it too. Then we were all sniffing around the area it was coming from and soon we realized oh no. Something probably died. In our building.

A few weeks prior to this I remember our neighbor talk to us about all her cats, except that one had been missing since she moved in, about 2 months before us. She said the cat freaked out from the move and took off. She also told me a story about how the landlord had patched a hole in her floor from the previous tenants dog. Things started to click into place. OH MY GOD.

After we were all saying that maybe it was a rat or something (but obviously it wasn’t because it had been smelling for weeks- it had to be bigger) we sort of awkwardly giggled and then went our separate ways saying we would be in touch with the landlord about removing whatever it was. Hubs and I went in our unit and started fiercely whispering, “Oh my God, it’s her cat! but she’s not putting it together! This is awful!”

That night, the landlord says that he is going to buy an odor neutralizer for the time being and spray it into the area where the smell is coming from which is basically, behind our headboard. So he sprays it and it leaks out of our walls where we have a recessed lighting area, spilling this potent, toxic liquid all over our bedding and picture frames, watches, etc.. Oh man I was so mad. After throwing our comforter cover in the laundry (worse thing to have to clean EVER!) I came back into the room and started wiping down this stuff that only masked the odor of a potentially decaying beloved pet. So I stand up on the bed to wipe up the recessed area when suddenly, BAM BAM BAM! This rapid, loud sound startled me so that it knocked me off my feet.

Except that it didn’t startle me off my feet, it threw me off my feet. I had forgotten about the ceiling fan. I was blasted in the head by our fan, on high speed. I fell on the bed and Hubs screamed, “WHAT WAS THAT!” I could tell by the way he yelled that he was annoyed- thinking I had done something terrible to cause such an awful sound. All I could say was “It’s okay it was just me.” WHAT!? I GOT CRACKED IN THE SKULL WITH RAPIDLY SPINNING BLADES and I was reassuring him? What!? Then he realized what had happened.

I immediately asked him to get the frozen carrots so I could control the swelling (a 4 year old drilled me in the face a few months ago with a golf club, so I had learned what to do from his super hot ER dad: Frozen veggies.) He came back with a sad sound in his voice, “Aw, babe- You mean the corn?” doh. Of course, I have never purchased frozen carrots. Head injury in progress.

Anyway, I cried. I felt so stupid. I hated having to deal with all this and because of no fault of my own, I didn’t want to sleep with a dead cat anymore and everything else that has been bothering me flowed out of my eyes like the Nile River. Also, many flies and fly larvae casings had begun to appear in our room and on the floor and that had set me over the edge. What was happening in here?!?!

Fast Forward to today: I have 2 perfect slice marks on the side of my head, causing me to look like some sort of Klingon speaking, Star-Trek character. It’s actually kinda Bad-A so I don’t mind. And today the landlord came to cut a hole in a wall to look for the source of the mystery smell about where he thought it was. But he asked me to leave. Soon, he confirmed by text that he had located the neighbor’s cat.

You know where he found it? Directly behind our headboard. OUR HEADBOARD! We have LITERALLY been sleeping with a sweet, sad, dead, rotting cat since we moved in. A MONTH AGO. the HORROR!

And then I remembered the flies. and larvae. Maggots. Under our bed. <<dry heave>>. It’s too much.

We’re moving.

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This is Mia after she found out what happened. We tried to protect her from all this, but she’s just too bright.

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Dog Park People

I was at our new dog park this weekend when a sweet, happy couple approached me in what was obviously going to be another session of ogling over Norman. They were smiling as they came near and here is how the conversation went:

Lady: “Oh what an adorable, sweet dog.  He, she?”

Me: “He.  His name is Norman”

Lady, giggling:  “I wasn’t sure because you can’t find it!” (referring to my dog’s privates)

Me: “Ha, well it’s there, it’s just hiding under all that skin!” (awkward)

Lady: Frowns. tone gets accusatory, “When did you neuter him?”

Me: “Um… at 6 months” (lie. 16 weeks)

Lady: “Well, that’s why his penis is too small.  YOU neutered him too young.”

Me: “hmmm?”

Lady: “I mean, dogs have hormones for a reason, you know, and what you’ve done is you took the hormones out of his system before he could develop and mature, leaving him without what he needs to grow correctly, and therefore you have stunted your poor dog’s growth.  It’s a shame, really.”

Me: “Uhhhhh…..”

Lady’s husband:  “Imagine if you got neutered at 2.”

Me: (WHAT!?) “heh heh okayyyy……”

Lady’s Fat Husband:  “I mean, you wouldn’t have breasts.”

Me:  (to myself) I don’t have them anyway. Maybe I could borrow yours.

(To myself) What the heck is going on right now.

(to myself) I need to get away.

Me: “well, I used to work at an animal shelter, and the vets did it at 8 weeks, and I doubt they would do that if it were so unsafe…”

Lady’s rude, Fat Husband: “hahahaha, I mean, you wouldn’t have breasts if they neutered you at 2, or 5!”

Me:   (to myself) Right, we said that already, correct?  Anyway, idiot, you neuter boys, you spay girls.  Stupid ass.  I would have been spayed. Wait.  So this is happening?

Me, instead:  “Okayyyyyy…….”

Awful, Awful Lady: “So his penis is SO small because you just neutered him way too young. (flipping hand into the air) Completely took out all the important hormones that he needs to thrive. Your vet shouldn’t have done that.”

I was starting to wish I could take a shot for every time she said “hormones,” or “penis.”

ME: “Well, ahem… there are many, um… schools of thought.” (This is my go to when I am faced with confrontation I can’t handle.)

Lady to Husband: “well, yeah.. it’s just too bad. Okay hun, we need to get home.  Goodbye.”

And they left me. Standing there with my jaw dropped.  Me and my poor, stunted, and abused dog.  I looked down at Norman and I whispered something I never thought I would ever say to a boy,

“I think your tiny penis is beautiful.”