Settle in, get some coffee – oh how I wished that all of this had just happened AFTER I had a cup of coffee – this is a pile of nasty things happening but I must keep them all straight and in the right order or I truly will go mad.

There are dragons in our back yard, or perhaps aliens or some other type of monster. They only appeared a few months ago and only one and a half dogs can see them or sense their evil presence. I say half dog because Hombre seems to sense them when it is time to pick a spot for leg lifting but strangely they are not present when it is time to race to the back wall and bark hysterically at a cat walking by.

Chica though, she will not set one dainty paw off the terrace for any kind of enticement. If forced by the cruel strategy of putting a leash on her and pulling, she screams the banshee scream of the dying and doesn’t stop until she is safe on the terrace again. This doesn’t leave her any acceptable – to me – place to ‘do her business’, except the roof. She has not used the roof consistently in the last few months and we can safely say that this has driven a wedge between us, I do not look fondly on her gifts by the front door.

Recently she has decided that the roof is no longer an acceptable place for business doing, she’s happy to be out there but it is pristine when she leaves, I know this because I have become a stalker of her business.

So, last night I left the dog door to the roof open all night so that either or any of them could instantly heed the call of nature in the proper place. All night, that plastic flap in the dog door was flapping and the mosquitoes must have rhythm because they seem to have been able to time an entrance. So, I woke up burning and itching from bites, turned on the lights, killed bloody insects on my new white sheets, slept an hour and repeated.

I got up earlier than I care to, showered, put on clean clothes, got prepared for a meeting later in the morning – all this while that dog door flapped and all 3 dogs went in and out onto the roof. When I was ready to go downstairs I did notice that the roof was very clean, not a stain, pile or dribble. On the way down, Chica takes a big crap right in front of the guest room door on the terrace. Mother of God, I couldn’t believe it. I yelled at her and went on down to make some coffee. When I opened the door to let the cats in, she snaked in past me and ran into the living room.

It was just too much, I was going to win, she was NOT going to be in the house with her pooping ways. I went and grabbed her by the collar and started dragging her to the door. She screamed, oh my bloody hell did she scream. She screamed as if a legion of demons were sticking red hot pokers into her eyeballs. She also projectile peed… on me. I grabbed her by one front and one back leg – we used to call it the drunk carry in my working days – and carried her peeing and pooping and screaming the screams of a thousand demons towards the door. She scratched me and so I had blood running down my arm, pee all over my front, poop in my shoe… as we rounded the corner into the kitchen I spotted Gabi the housekeeper who had just walked in.

Some of you may remember that I have COPD. Breathing hasn’t been easy the last couple weeks, perhaps the high humidity or the medication isn’t working as well. After all this exertion, drama, anger, blood, pee, poop and tears – I couldn’t breathe well enough to talk so I couldn’t explain anything to Gabi. I just kind of waved my hand around at the whole mess and panted. She looked around again and went off to change into her work clothes, the antics of gringas must be more than she cares to understand.

I still thought I had an appointment with this pond guy so I went back upstairs to have yet another shower. I cleaned up the poop, and most of the pee in the living room first, there are just some things I can’t ask anyone else to do for me. Then I cleaned up the poop on the guest room terrace and then I went up to see the lovely Chica laying in front of my bedroom door. I explained to her that she was now what is called a Roof Dog here in Mexico, a time honored profession and one that she was going to learn very well. I again grabbed the collar and dragged her across my bedroom, pooping and peeing, to the roof. This dog has been saving these excretions for weeks just so she was well armed if I decided to enforce the no pooping in house rule.

With the pee machine safely on the roof, I again took a shower, put on clean clothes and came back downstairs. Internet, you are going to think I’m making this up but I assure you that there are dogs in the universe like this, I have 2 of them. This is an important point, only Hombre was in the house because Chica was on the roof and Cuba had been up in the bedroom and followed me down. So, there on the living room floor directly in front of my new blue chair was a huge pile of steaming dog shit. I am absolutely positive that this pile was not there when I was carrying the projectile pee-er over that very same spot just a half hour earlier. Can I remind you that I had now had TWO showers, two changes of clothing and NO COFFEE! That’s without mentioning all the bodily fluids I’d been wearing.

Only the fear that Gabi would quit if I started wailing and screaming saved that dog. Out he went to the terrace, he was going to be a half/roof dog or maybe a full roof dog I still wasn’t sure. More cleaning of dog shit, can I just say that nothing about me or my house smelled very good this morning.

I didn’t think I had time for coffee because the guy who was coming over was late. I called and got the ‘lo que pasa es’ and blanked out the rest. I have never heard anything but BS follow that line in Spanish so now when I hear it my mind goes on a little vacation from the stress of concentrating to understand another language. In other words, I space out and don’t listen. So, if you perhaps wanted to communicate something very important to me and you wanted to do it in Spanish it would be wise never to use that phrase. Just saying.

By now Gabi was cleaning the kitchen and if I went to make coffee I would get in her way and I already felt guilty for the screaming dog and the pee smell everywhere so I just left. I went to the beach to see the Brits and I took Cuba the Only Good Dog in the World with me. I left Chica in her new home on the roof, where she has water and shade and where I was nice enough to throw her dog bed that she had peed on so she a place to lay too… or pee. I left Hombre in the back where the dragons are and where he had peed on my new plant yesterday and it looks dead today. Have fun dude.

Things got a lot better once I had coffee and breakfast with Paula and Barb and looked for shells on the beach and toured the beauty that is their new houses. I stopped at Home Depot for more OdoBan on the way home, I think I need to spray the whole house with it so a gallon was not too much.

I had considered water, shade and bed for Chica but I forgot about rain, and rain it did this afternoon. A true downpour. It was raining like that when I got home and I realized she was out in it on the roof. Well, it’s a warm rain. It took me about a half hour to get up there and let her in. Sorry, I know she had no idea that any of this was related but hey, I knew and I laughed.

Oh, the final part of this story is that I now have the mark of God on my arm. Yes, believers, when the talon of the pee queen raked across my arm it left a burning brand that looks a lot like that Xian fish that you see on car bumpers. I knew this would be more than anyone could believe so I took a picture AND I even augmented it with the holy Photoshop so the tell tale mark would be obvious to anyone. Behold!

Please. No candles and incense, donations are ok

© Jonna for blah...blah...blah... Ginger!, 2009. | Permalink | 31 comments | Post tags: bad dogs