Wimzie POOPED IN THE VAN

Thankfully, she's a small dog, but you'd be surprised -- I mean, like, SHOCKED -- at how bad three little turd nuggets can smell in the interior of a minivan.

Aisling and I drove Meelyn to her new job today and took the dogs with us. Wimzie the Jack Russell terrier got a little excited when Meelyn got out of the van, probably because I neglected to fill out a form in triplicate requesting her permission for a family member to leave the nest. She already has a hard enough time dealing with the fact that my husband goes to work every day, so she was unprepared for Meelyn to venture off with no word of explanation. It caused her bowels to seize up and squeeze out those three little noxious balls, which I think may be my patriotic duty to inform the CIA about. They could totally use these things to bring Osama bin Laden out of that cave in Afghanistan. Even if he's already dead. No one wants to stay in a confined space with that smell.

I was saying goodbye to Mee and the smell hit me, causing me to wrinkle my nose and go "Wha--??" about three seconds before Aisling yelped "OH NOOOOOOOES!!! HAPPY NUGGETS!!!!"

Then, of course, the frikkin' beast-creature jumped onto a seat so that she wouldn't have to remain on the floor with her stench. But then she jumped DOWN again, of course stepping right in the poo. She's an agile little thing, so we tried to catch her to keep the mess contained, but she slipped from my grasp and rocketed to the back of the van, leaving a trail of poopy pawprints behind her. I began to wonder if dog would taste good roasted on the grill. And if I could maybe make a smart winter chapeau out of her furry hide.

"Good luck with that," Meelyn said hastily and ducked into the restaurant where it smells deliciously like grilling burgers.

Just in case you wondered, that's not how it smelled in the van. I kept kind of gagging and my tongue got that really thick feeling, like you're holding an oven mitt in your mouth.

Aisling and I cleaned up the poop that was dotting the interior of the van and cleaned up the dog and then went home, dropped off both dogs, and went to the car wash that has upholstery shampoo and spent nine dollars vacuuming, shampooing, re-vacuuming and then washing the van.

So here is my dictum:

NO MORE DOGS IN THE VAN. NONE. NEVER. And this time I mean it. If I have to take them to the vet, I'll rent a little U-Haul trailer.