The consequences of an inter-species spoon

Nothing good ever happens after 2am. Which I seem to remember is a Ted-Mosby-ism, meant to correlate with how all the decisions you make after this particular time-stamp don’t generally work out well for you.

Sleeping alone (the wife had gone to sleep with the errant three year old) I scooped the basset hound onto the bed, to act as a proxy snuggle-buddy (a role for which I find they are very suited, being long and bendy and not disinclined to being covered with blanket).

I imagine this was all working out quite well for me. Until my date vomited all over the bed.

Which in and of itself is quite onerous. Made worse by the fact that this didn’t wake me up. And so the hound, having exited his insides (in quite a prodigious manner) re-furled himself into the position of little spoon and I snoozed blissfully unaware of the crime scene spread out around me until four-ay-em.

Which is when the German Shepherd woke me up to go and pee. Bleary eyed I hobble to let her out. My plantar fascia has yet to come back online so I sit back down on the edge of the bed only to lower my buttocks into something glutinous and moist…

… which, on ways you want to start your day, is pretty low on the list.

(If you’re of a certain age and cinematic proclivity, imagine the infamous scene from Trainspotting involving Spud and his girlfriends sheets)

Enter stage left long-chained profanity. With some (probably quite serious) blasphemy mixed in for good measure.

I strip the bed. Bundling everything off into the laundry… before tackling the mattress and the associated seepage with a foaming stain remover and a scrubbing brush.

Because I am typical in my manliness, all I really want to do is go and wake up the wife, so we can share in this tribulation (and she can offer moral support) Ha ha. But I’m also scared…. because… well, I’ve recently been reprimanded for my tendency to allow the creatures onto the bed when I think no one is watching.

So there’s that wrinkle in my future.

We are ‘sleeping’ together on the recliner now. A form of self banishment while we wait for the rest of the household to rise from their slumber.

I pen my last will and testament… he catches a few extras Zzz’s before the enviable admonishment. For some reason I think of a line from the usual suspects.

First day on the job, you know what I learned? How to spot a murderer. Let’s say you arrest three guys for the same killing. You put them all in jail overnight. The next morning, whoever’s sleeping is your man. You see, if you’re guilty, you know you’re caught, you get some rest, you let your guard down.

-Dave Kujan, Usual Suspects

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