I still have blue ink under my fingernails. Not, as some of you would think, because I’m in the newspaper business. No, my stained fingertips and knuckles can be attributed to our puppy, Cuper.
Two days ago, I came home from a meeting around 7 p.m. Dinner was bubbling on the stove and I just needed to set out plates. I was feeling productive … until I stepped through the front door and found the remains of a chewed up ballpoint pen.
The plastic was so mangled it took me a minute to recognize that it was indeed a pen. A feeling of dread came over me as I slowly looked around the living room. I spotted one, two, three splotches of blue ink on the beige carpet. A few more pieces of chewed plastic over there.
From the moment I picked up the pen, Cuper began to play “dead dog.” Much like opossum, her version of dead dog entails a cocked head, glazed over eyes and stiff legs. I scooped her up and tossed her out the back door – perhaps not as gently as I should have. She remained outside until bedtime.
Rather than sit down to dinner, I started scrubbing the carpet. I never knew one pen held so much ink! In addition to my stained fingers, I soaked up two cleaning cloths with blue ink.
I’d just started to believe the carpet might be salvageable thanks to the miracle-working power of Resolve, when I noticed my favorite blanket wadded up in the corner. I gingerly picked up a corner of my orange Mercer University sweatshirt blanket and let it unfold. Sure enough, dark blue ink was smeared across the bottom half – most likely from Cuper’s paws and face.
Y’all, I’ve seen those snapshots parents post on Facebook of their children after they’ve scribbled the walls with a permanent marker or dumped a bottle of nail polish on the carpet. And, I laughed. I laughed hard. Never again will I laugh!
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