Can You Ever Get Enough of Stories About Dogs and Poop?

The Fallingdown House is never a dull place, even on a lackluster Monday evening on the cusp of July.

It was about quarter past eight. Mark went out to collect the curried chicken thighs from the grill. I was in the kitchen, searing some fresh chard and kale from a friend's farm share in garlic and oil and scooping curried brown rice, barley, and split red lentils from the rice pot. Felix was in his jumper, in the doorway between the kitchen/dining room and the family room, with Maurice and Amelie for an audience.

Imagine my disgust and horror when Mark came in off the deck and howled at Maurice, who was frantically licking Felix's leg. In our busy shuffle to get dinner on the table, we didn't see that Felix's diaper had sprung a leak, and that poop was running down his leg. Onto the pug's head. And the floor. And there are both dogs, eating it up. Mark evacuated the baby to the changing table upstairs, while I cleaned up the floor, the jumper, and the dog's head. I met him upstairs and we stripped, cleaned, and re-diapered Felix.

Dinner was still warm when we got back.

Sometimes I do wonder what has become of my life...