I usually start my day with meditation and exercise.
Then, whatever I'm doing, I stop to feed the dogs at exactly 6:15 a.m. And that's because at 6:30 I have to give one of the dogs, Jose, his insulin shot. The doctor said wait until 15 minutes after he eats, then give him the shot.
But yesterday morning, when I opened the bedroom door to go down and feed them, I smelled this odor. Like rotting flesh. It was so bad I almost threw up.
It didn't take long to find the source. Jose, the Chihuahua, had found a large dead bird that had been cooking in the yard all night and brought it into the house. He was on his blanket in front of the TV, busily tearing it apart and eating it.
When I told him in my big voice to give me the bird, he refused. Instead he kept eating it. And when I reach down to push him away, he nipped me on the hand. I tried it again with the same result. Now I was pissed.
I had to use more cunning. So instead of trying to take the bird, I took the blanket and rolled both him and the bird up in it. Then I took them outside and dumped them on the ground. I finally disposed of the bird and blanket. Then began getting the dead bird smell out of the house. I found that Febreze works great.
Needless to say Jose got his insulin shot late.
And I started my day over. And while it tested my patience, at least it didn't smell bad.
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