I got home around 5:30 yesterday evening from a meeting I was covering for the newspaper. The husband, who had been home since about 4:30, had yet to venture upstairs. Around 6 or 6:30, he decided it was finally time to take a shower. He smelled something bad in the bathroom, but didn’t see anything and thought it could have just been him as he had been working all day. He pulled back the shower curtain to turn on the water when he discovered it.

There was diarrhea poop splattered all over the inside of the tub.

Needles to say, we were shocked. It obviously hadn’t come up from the drain. The only poop-producer that had been in the house all day besides us was Ratchet, who has never had an accident in the house before. Also, he never goes in the bathroom and won’t even come close to the tub because he hates baths. There were no dog prints in the tub or on the floor and nothing on the carpet outside the bathroom. It didn’t seem like Ratchet had gotten into the garbage and eaten any human food and he was acting normally for all we knew. And to top it off, he had been alone only about 3 1/2 hours since he had a normal bowel movement on his afternoon walk at lunch.

Our thoughts expanded to wonder if a maintenance man with a strange vendetta or some prankster up to no good had been in the apartment. But after much consideration, decided there was no way that had happened. The front door deadbolt was locked and nothing in the apartment had been touched. It had to have been the dog.

I had the hubby take Ratchet outside to see if he still had the runs while I started cleaning up the mess. Lo and behold, just a minute or two into his walk he squatted and squirted all over the grass. He squatted probably 4 or 5 times in about a half hour outside. Though we now knew for sure who the culprit was, we were still completely floored.

Somewhere in his history, he had been trained to go to the bathroom in the tub. Maybe his previous owners had his puppy training papers in the tub before he learned to go outside. We have no idea. But Ratchet had clearly held back the tide as long as he possibly could before deliberately climbing into the tub when he just had to let loose.

I cleaned up the mess, discarding the bath mat that had slid into the tub and was covered in diarrhea poo from when Ratchet hopped in. We made sure he was emptied out before finally heading back to bed around 10 p.m. At 12:30 in the morning, the husband heard Ratchet’s nails on the bathroom floor, so I got up and let him out for another round of squirty poo.

This morning, he was still squirty on his morning walk. I didn’t think it likely that he would have another explosive round, but I still took the precaution of putting towels on the carpet outside of the bathroom door just in case. That brainwave saved me this afternoon.

Ratchet again popped into the tub when he couldn’t hold it any longer. There was more diarrhea in the tub when I got home for lunch, though less than yesterday. Though he had managed to avoid stepping in it yesterday, he got one paw in it today and the towels showed a couple of poopy paw prints. I also found the blinds on the back door completely destroyed. I don’t know whether that was him trying to get outside because he had to poo or if he was just terrified from the pretty intense thunderstorms we had this morning. (We know he’s scared to death of thunder and other noises like fireworks and gunshots.) Ratchet was clearly embarrassed or ashamed that he had an accident in the house when I got home. He didn’t come greet me until I called him (which is unusual) and he hung his head and kind of slinked around when he did come to me.

I took him outside and he was still squirty. After consulting my mother, I called the vet , got him in immediately and let my editor know that I wouldn’t be back in the office for a while. The vet tested a sample of the poo I literally scooped out of the bathtub with a crappy spoon, and he determined that Ratchet didn’t have any intestinal parasites… whew. Instead, he had probably eaten something he shouldn’t have (like a dead mouse or animal poo) when we took him to a local dog park Sunday. It caused a buildup of bacteria in his colon and he is afflicted with canine colitis.

We’ve got 10 days of antibiotic pills and he’s not allowed to eat anything for 24 hours. Hopefully that will solve the problem and I won’t have to be worried about the apartment when I go to work. I decided to spend the rest of the day working from home so I could be there to let Ratchet out every couple of hours and avoid any more huge messes.

We are deeply grateful that Ratchet was taught to head for the tub, though who knows how he was taught that. Maybe when he peed or pooped inside as a puppy, the owners hurried him off to the tub instead of outside. But no matter how he learned it, it made the mess so much easier to clean up and limited the damage to the apartment to practically nil. But if no one taught him that, then we have the most intelligent dog in the world!

His fairly frequent farts will make your nose sting, your eyes water and have you running for fresh air.

He didn’t have this issue until we got him on a high protein dog food. Unfortunately, we still have about half of a 40 pound bag to get through before we can switch him to a lower protein food and hopefully resolve the stinky issue. In the meantime, I’m wishing I had a gas mask.

Other than that, Ratchet is working out great for us. He LOVES playing with dog ropes, so we got a giant one for him when we took him to visit my aunt’s in Ohio. The downside is that when he whips his head back and forth while playing with you, he ends up whacking you with the big knots on the ends of the rope. He really loves when you drag him around by the rope, and will roll around on the floor with it when you’re not pulling him.

When he wants something, Ratchet will sit right in front of me. He’ll be at full alert with his ears pricked, and just sit there and stare at me without looking away or even blinking, it seems. Even if I can’t see him over my laptop, I can feel his little eyes boring into me through my computer screen.

My hubby of about 3 1/2 months already has a routine with Ratchet. He’ll come home from work and sit in his chair. Ratchet will sit at his feet and wait to be invited up. Keeping his hind feet on the floor, he then gets his front feet on either side of Ty’s hips. The mister will rub his ears for about 5 minutes and Ratchet takes a little snooze while still leaning into Ty’s chest.

It’s so good to have a dog again! He’s made life so much more enjoyable when you come home from a long, hard day. This last week at the newspaper, we had an editor and two reporters (one of which does the daily police/fire reports) out all week. I’ve never had such a full week. The world seemed determined to throw just about every story it could our way when we were short staffed. Coming home to a dog that is always thrilled to see you makes it all better.

He’s got an incredible, all-over brindle color. There’s brown and black with golden undertones. Here’s a close-up shot of his back that may give you some idea. Unfortunately, you can’t really see the golden tones in these pictures.

I picked him up from the shelter yesterday to bring him home for a trial run. The shelter allows you to foster an animal for a few days to see if he’ll fit you. From what we knew, this guy sounded perfect. And he is! He’s quite lazy, sleeping around basically all day. But he does play and is always happy to go outside for a walk. He loves people. He has zero food aggression — I stuck my hand in his food bowl (carefully of course!) and was able to stick my fingers in his mouth before taking the bowl. He didn’t so much as make a sound, just looked at me with a question on his face. I then basically stuck my face in his bowl while he was eating. Again, absolutely nothing. He doesn’t guard his toys either, and will let you do pretty much anything to his body you can think of. He is house trained, knows basic commands and even plays fetch and will drop the ball for you with no problem. He was actually trained for a couple of weeks by inmates at a local correctional facility.

It’s a treat to watch him play. He’ll throw a ball into the air so he can chase it, lay on his side and roll around on his back while holding a rope toy with his feet and chewing it. He’s currently sacked out in his crate, snoring slightly, after a long day of us putting him through his paces. We go tomorrow to fill out the paperwork and pay for him.

I’ve wanted a dog since our last family dog died forever ago, it seems. The hubby’s wanted one since his family’s dog died several years ago. It feels so good to have one again. Dogs are always optimistic, even when they’ve been through hell.

We have no real idea what this guy’s background was. He was found wandering around, very skinny because of tapeworms and hookworms. He also had a severe tick problem and we think we’ve found a couple of scars on his underside from them. He had been in the shelter for about 20 days when the owners came in to claim another dog they had lost. They recognized our new guy as one of their own, but surrendered him without a second thought. The way he acts with us seems to indicate that he’s not used to being loved so much. It makes me think this other dog his former owners had was the main dog, and “Junior” was just a throwaway they didn’t really care about. They have no idea what they’re missing! We’ve had him for only a day and already love him like crazy!

The day went quite well, despite a major dress malfunction 5 minutes before the ceremony (which was fixed by my new mother-in-law, God bless her). The ceremony was perfect, the weather was great and everyone had a good time. I really do think going low key, family picnic-like on the reception was the best idea. Everyone was so relaxed.

I was so happy to see so much of my family. I had relatives in from Wisconsin, Ohio, Virginia, Colorado, Indiana, Illinois and Florida make it out to see us exchange vows. Even people we were sure wouldn’t be able to make it were able to come. I survived a 4:30 a.m. to 11 p.m. day with only an hour of sleep and I didn’t collapse in the middle of everything. I’m still surprised at that.

The new husband and I have been getting along famously, not that I expected anything different. We’ve lived together for several months already so it comes as no surprise. But getting back into the swing of things at work hasn’t been as easy. It’s hard to get my brain engaged again after having such a great vacation.

The only completely non-blissful part of my newlywed experience has been changing my name. I’ve only been able to change a couple of things. I have a massive list to take care of in that regard. Then there’s the bank accounts to change, which means I also have to change all of my automatic deposits, withdraws and bill payments. Sigh…

Six days.

Who ever thought we’d get to this point? We’ve been dating for six years, and all of a sudden, here is that same number only it’s a much shorter time frame and counts down, not up. We’ve got the church, the pastor, the white tent and the expensive photographer. There are pages of lists of schedules, things to do, things to get and make. I’ve got the dress and the veil, the makeup and the shoes. My mom has her waterproof mascara and the house is almost ready to be home to 11 people for a couple of days.

And it still hasn’t all sunk in for me yet.

Sometimes I wonder what the hell’s wrong with me. I’m getting MARRIED in less than a week. I’m doing all the preparations. I’ve got an arsenal of skin care products lining the bathroom counter. We are doing stuff for the wedding and talking about it every day, but still no big “Aha moment.”

I’ve had little moments, like seeing what will be my new name on the hotel confirmation and other such things. But I’m still missing that, “Oh my God, I’m getting married. I’m going to be Mrs. X” realization that you hear about in every book, every movie and TV show.

I’d better tell my sister, who’s doing my makeup, to grab me some waterproof mascara because at this rate it’s going to hit me as I’m walking down the isle. The last thing I need is to be a tragic bride with mascara streaks running down my face. I’ll have to tuck a tissue or two inside the bodice of my gown just in case.

I’m absolutely not having second thoughts. I love him more than I could ever have imagined. But six days. Kind of a small number for something so life-changing, isn’t it?

In honor of Mother’s Day this weekend, I decided to post this a little early because who knows what I’ll end up having to do this weekend. These are just a few of the reasons why I absolutely love and adore my mother. Honestly, I swear that I have the best mom on the planet.

10 lessons from Mom

1. How do you eat an elephant? One bite at a time.
2. It is what it is. Don’t sweat the small stuff.
3. When your head feels like exploding, start writing lists. Lots and lots of lists.
4. The best way to eat cottage cheese is with potato chips.
5. When you feel like you’re getting worked up, take a couple of deep breaths. It really works.
6. If you just do it, then it’s off the list and you don’t have to think about it.
7. Know your sale prices! What looks like a good deal really isn’t that great of a deal half of the time.
8. Shop around and do your research. You’ll be happier overall with whatever you end up with. And I’m not just talking about actual shopping here.
9. Don’t ever make big decisions under pressure. Walk completely away for a bit, talk about it, then decide.
10. If you save a little now, you’ll end up with a lot more later.

Other reasons I love my mom:

• She always knows exactly the right thing to say.
• Mom isn’t ruled by my dad and she has her own mind. If he does something stupid, she lets him know it. I think that’s one of the reasons their marriage has lasted so long. (And you know it too, Dad…)
• You can’t really shake my mom. She’s my rock and always knows what to do, even if she’s freaking out too.
• She thinks of everything, so she’s always prepared for everything too.
• She knows when to kick my butt and when to let things slide.
• She always considers what you like or want and doesn’t let her own opinions overrule yours, but does suggest things. Very nice when planning a wedding…
• She’s always glad you called.
• You can always count on her for some good advice.
• I know she loves me. There’s always some small action or a few words that tell me.
• If it weren’t for her support, there’s no way I’d be who I am now. I’m an adult with my own job, my own place, my own life. Even when I didn’t think it would ever happen, it still did.

I LOVE YOU, MOM!!!

We’re leaving today for a wedding business trip home to Michigan. We have a pre-marriage counseling session set up with the pastor and we’ll also talk about the ceremony schedule. We also have to meet Abby, our fantastic (albeit quite expensive) photographer. It’s basically a hi-bye situation with the family unfortunately. We can’t leave until Ty gets home from work and won’t get home until very late tonight. Then we have to leave at a decent hour Sunday to make the 7 hour drive to be back for work next week.

There is so much crap to get in my car it’s ridiculous. Not only are we bringing a small suitcase, but I’m taking my dress home too, which is not small by any means. Thank God I hate the big poofy dresses or we’d be screwed. I’m also going to test my parents’ new washer and dryer by bringing home our laundry. I won’t have time to do it this weekend and I simply don’t have enough work clothes yet to go without. And while we’ll be doing it for free, I chucked the sheets and towels in there too. And my winter coat that smells like cow poo (yes, still!)  from my feature story explorations. My computer has to come home so I can work on another feature story that’s running next weekend if I can find the time. I’m bringing home copies of my prosecutor’s office scandal articles and other small stuff like that. And we’ll only be there for about a day and a half.

It sucks that we won’t have much time for family. But we’ll be back up there again May 1 for a wedding shower. We might have to plan a couple other things for wedding planning then too, but there should be more time to just relax.

In non-wedding news, I’ve discovered that the absolute best version I’ve ever heard of “Cry Me a River” is Michael Buble. The bass line is friggin’ AMAZING. It’s almost James Bond-ish. While cleaning up the kitchen today, I blasted it from my external computer speakers… and repeated it twice.

Ty also showed me this video quite some time ago. And in my research for my milk tester feature, I found it again. I’m still shocked by it.

Maybe we should stop messing with nature. I have a feeling this could come back to bite us… or run us over, or just plain fall over and squish us.

This guy goes to area dairy farms and weighs the milk each cow produces. He also takes a sample, which is sent for testing and then all the information is stored for each individual cow on a computer. It’s basically a really good management tool for dairy farmers that tells them how to breed cows, when to sell them, et cetera et cetera.

But while on the farm with him, I must admit it’s a bit smelly. Because it’s still chilly, the cows are kept in dry barns where they will be “happier” and produce more milk. This means they are much, much dirtier. They lay in their own poop and are caked in it. If you know anything about cows, they poop all the time (or at least is seems like they do based on the cow plops I hear while on the job…). The odor even seeps into my hair and clothes, which means I come home smelling of cow and get whiffs of it if I don’t take a shower right away.

So when on the site where the milk tester is doing his job, the farm owners show us around the place… which means stepping in poop. Now I’m not squeamish by any means. The only thing that really freaks me out is parasites that prey on humans, so stepping in poop that is basically digested hay and grain is no problem. But thank God I thought to change into my crappy scrub shoes. They REEK of cow manure and I don’t honestly know if I’ll be able to keep them after the story is done. Thank goodness they were already old and ratty.

But it’s interesting to see the process. As kids, my sisters and I drank a lot of milk. It was one of our favorite drinks and from what I remember, we had it with nearly every meal. I still love milk and I think chocolate milk is the best drink in the world. I can’t remember it, but my parents took us to a farm that demonstrated where milk came from and they thought we would never drink milk again. I never think about where milk or other food comes from. I just go to the store an pick it up out of a cooler or off the shelf. It’s somewhat odd to see the very first step of the process in getting my milk to the store because I quite simply never think about it. It makes me wonder where some of my other food comes from and how it starts out.

Just something to think about.

Since my last post I’ve been crazy busy at work. There’s a huge situation I’m covering out of the county prosecutor’s office. There are allegations of ghost employment and sexual discrimination. Someone’s been fired and another is kind of on hiatus, not fired but not willing to go back to a “hostile work environment.” Now the prosecutor may be facing a lawsuit and the office has been operating at half staff since Feb. 15, making the court system do some fancy dancing.

For me, it’s a trial by fire. This is my first professional job. I’m only four months into it and WHAM, I’m covering a massively complicated story that every time I do something with it, it sprouts another nasty tentacle. But it’s nice to know that I have my direct editor, my managing editor and my publisher standing with me on everything I’ve done. There are at least five pairs of eyes on everything I publish about it, making sure it’s fair, accurate and can’t get anyone (them or us) in deeper trouble.

But I’ve had enough of that story. Four front page stories in three days.

In other news, we’ve sent out wedding invitations. We’ve gotten one RSVP already, which was a heck of a lot sooner than I expected as we just stuck them in the mail Saturday. We’ve also gotten Ty fitted for a tux and have figured out what the guys will be wearing, so we are making progress even though lately we’ve been a little stalled because now he’s working (YAY!) and I’ve been working on this whole prosecutors thing.

It’s hard to picture that it’s only three months until we’re married. I tried my dress on again today, which I haven’t had on since I bought it, just to kind of remind myself that pretty soon I’ll be wearing it while walking down my church isle. Even though I have the dress and we’ve been planning, I don’t think it’s really hit me yet.

Even if we didn’t have a wedding to pay for we wouldn’t be doing much of anything at all for one of the most ridiculous holidays of the year. People are buying up candy and flowers and jewelry for their valentines… which is exactly why the holiday seems to exist nowadays. It’s become nothing but a commercialized day to part well-meaning men and women from their hard-earned cash.

Now I’m not saying I don’t enjoy getting candy or flowers. I love chocolate and pretty things. I certainly like a classy piece of jewelry. But why does it have to be reserved for one day for the entire world? I would much rather have it be a personal holiday like an anniversary or even a just because kind of thing, not because Hallmark tells him to get me something.

Did I get the guy a card? You bet. Did he take me out for dinner last night? Yup. But it was a pizza place and nowhere fancy, which is a-OK with me. We spent a grand total of about $25 for our “celebrations,” and we have leftovers for lunch today. I’ll spend some time snuggling with him on the couch today, but I do that every day.

This holiday is kind of like telling people it’s the one day they can show their affection for each other. And I feel like for many couples, that may be exactly what it is. Why can’t every day be Valentine’s Day? Sappy, I know, but still, who needs a holiday to tell someone “I love you” by showering them with gifts? Wouldn’t it mean more just saying it straight from the heart in every day life?

We don’t need cards, gifts or fancy dinners to love each other, or to show people how we feel. We just do.

Take that, Hallmark!