Taps

Tap. Tap. Tap.

What is that?

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Why is she awake?

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Maybe she's thirsty.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

I hope she doesn't have to use the restroom. It's so cold outside.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Man, I really wish they had carpet.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

LET ME SLEEEEEEEEP!

Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.

Oh my God. Fiiiiiine.

Exasperated, I threw the covers off of me. 

I need a real job, I thought to myself.

Petsitting for fifty bucks a night sounds great on the surface. Walk the dog a few times. Feed her. Sit on the couch, do nothing, get paid.

But here I am. And I miss my bed. And my boyfriend. And my routine. My anxiety and clean-freak nature have skyrocketed living amongst other people's dirt. Yes, I realize how petty that sounds. Yes, I know I probably shouldn't be offering to clean up after other people's pets if I can't even handle dirt from those people themselves.

I stepped onto the cold hardwood floor and made my way down the creaky stairs from the loft to the main floor. I clicked on the light near the front door, illuminating the space in front of me.

The Tap. Tap. Tap. suddenly ceased.

Tess positioned herself sideways directly in front of me. She turned her head in my direction, and her cataract-filled eyes looked into mine.

She looked... well she looked damn cute as always. But there was something els there tonight. Was it sad? No, it was more than that. Apologetic? Can a dog even feel apologetic? Or maybe it was fearful?

"Are you okay, sweetie?" I asked her in my best cooing voice. She tilted her head to the side and continued to stare at me.

"Oh honey, do you miss your mommy and daddy?" I said as if she knew exactly what I was asking.

Before I could even reach out to pat her head, I froze. The sound of liquid hitting the floor accompanied by small farts made my stomach drop.

"No, no, no, no, no, NO, NOOOOOO!" I managed to squeak.

I was torn between sadness for the old pup who must've had quite the stomachache, anger at myself for not listening to her Tap. Tap. Tap. as a warning that she needed to go out, and the nausea overcoming me as the smell of diarrhea hit my nostrils.

I gagged, watching helplessly as the puddle continued to grow far and wide across the room. I collapsed onto the floor, safely away from the mess, and cried dramatically.

I looked up to see Tess staring at me from across the living room. Her sweet eyes seemed to be telling me to get my shit together so that I could get her shit together... Literally.

She was right. I heaved a great sigh, or rather attempted to, as another generous whiff of stink filled my lungs. I leapt across the river of liquid poo and dashed to the side sliding door. But my abrupt movement must've frightened Tess, because as I slid open the door, I heard three anxiety-inducing noises in succession behind me.

Tap. Thud. Slosh.

Cold, fresh air rushed into the humid living room as I slowly pivoted around to find poor Tess, sprawled in her own filth.

I don't get paid enough for this shit.