My fingers are burning while I type this.
I have a basket of oils that resided on the floor in my bedroom. I warm these oils in soapstone burners so the house will smell yummy. The pool guy was here and someone was also painting so I kept the dogs in my bedroom. After the dogs were detained for an hour, I entered the bedroom and it smelled AMAZING. Dingo was dying to get out of the bedroom. She ran to water and started whining to go outside. Confused, I let her outside and returned to the mystery smell of cinnamon buns in the bedroom. An oil bottle was next to the basket, lifeless and filled with puncture holes that only could have been done by the wild dingo. A pool of oil had welled on the floor. I looked at the crime scene, speechless and sad.
I loved that cinnamon bun oil.
In the sunroom, I returned to dingo and smelled her breath. It smelled of rotten carcass and sour horchata with extra cinnamon. I would think she would have a reaction to pure grade cinnamon oil but dingo didn’t give a sh*t- it was like a visit to Cinnabon for her. So now my fingers are burning off from cleaning up the mess and she is just fine.
Someone feed her.
She’s just starving.
Change her diaper while you’re at it because I’ve gotta go put my fingertips on ice before going to the rodeo. On a positive note, my husband will be happy that it will physically hurt for me to pull out money or a credit card from my wallet.
Update: it is now three hours later and she peed in her diaper about 30 min AFTER she had been outside to tinkle. Damn DINGO!!!!