Think this kind of thing is purely the stuff of a Woody Allen comedy? Nope. When I got up this morning at 5:55 AM (yes, it was really that early), my aging Labrador came upstairs to greet me… and to barf at my feet. It was soooo gross. Went downstairs to let the dog out and discovered… yup, more of it.
P.S. Sorry, Seth. But he’s a dog; not a cat. (Special thanks to cartoonist Brad Fitzpatrick for the illustration.)
I can’t believe you blogged this after your back and forth with Seth Godin. He writes, complementing you: “No reports on her cats, the weather or her mood, though.”
You go, Debbie!! I WAS going to blog about the doggie diarrhea on my new carpet (since I had spent a considerable number of electrons on the process of getting the new carpet after the toilet malfunction flood) but I censored myself.