The dog peed on the floor, and, having a scary, abnormally big and smelly, half hellhound/half beast from the early Cretaceous period with a tiny sprinkle of fluffy kitten living in the house, we shouldn't really expect any less now, should we?
But honestly, the wooden floor boards are sort of.. curling up around the edges, like they're trying to get away from something acidic. I so do not want to be the patch of dead or dying grass in our garden, as i can practically hear the silent screams every time our lovely old beast trots out to empty her bladder.
And i swear, i only give her water to drink. She's like a magical beast, something out of the Arthurian legends. Give her water and she will pee 98% pure alcohol for you. On your floor when you are not looking.
You've got to love Molson <3
Oh, and you might have noticed that my blog titles rarely has anything to do with the post itself. That is because the titles are small reminders to me and myself only, about something ongoing but unbloggable in my life.
So, go on and guess, but knowing how my brain works you'll probably never be able to see the logic behind the titles.
If you do i shall be immensely impressed and give you my firstborn as a token of respect, general insanity and a tribute to the brothers Grimm.
So there.
