Reverse ingestion of the canine variety

I apologize to those of you with sensitive stomachs, if you're eating you may want to come back later.  My dysfunction of the day has to do with dog puke.  It totally skeeves me out.  Why is this a dysfunction?  Well, because I'm a mother of 3, I worked with toddlers and preschoolers as a career, and I spent a majority of my young years doing some sort of babysitting or other childcare.  I'm not a germophobe in the least.  Dirt, blood, snot, and other things coming from small human bodies really don't phase me much.  I've changed a lot of diapers in my life...A LOT.  I used cloth diapers on my daughter where you have no choice but to get rid of the poo instead of wrapping it up and forgetting about it like most do.  I have a son who projectile vomitted entire feedings, several times a day, for months.  Not that I enjoy cleaning any of these things up, quite the opposite, however they don't gross me out beyond belief.  And don't forget I am a doula, birth is quite messy and that doesn't bother me in the least. 

But the dog is another story.  I know it's kinda the same thing, but yet, it is totally not the same thing.  I hate finding dog puke...because that means I have to clean it up.  Sometimes (just a few times, really) I've pretended I didn't see it and hope that my husband notices soon enough so that HE can clean it up.  (And when he doesn't it really irritates me because then I have to.)  When I'm forced to clean it myself I have to use 5 times the amount of paper towels necessary because I don't want any chance of it touching my skin.  And even if none does I have to scrub my hands like I'm preparing for surgery.  About 2 weeks ago I threw away a kids book that she had puked on because there was just no way to get it clean enough that it would be ok for anyone to ever touch it again.

This morning I was laid down on my bed after suddenly feeling overwhelmingly tired.  K played in my room while I lay there in and out of sleep for about a half hour.  Then I moved my foot and felt something wet.  Um, WHAT IS THAT?  I hoped as much as one can hope that someone left a wet towel on the bed, even though I had just been staring at the bed for a while folding clothes and putting them away and knew there was no chance of that.  Grudgingly I get up and find under the blanket a wonderful gift from the dog.  She refuses to jump on the bed by herself, so she must have done it sometime this morning after I got out of bed but before C got up.  So now not only am I grossed out because my foot touched dog puke and I have to clean it up, but now I have even more laundry to do and I'm cursing my husband's ability to sleep like the dead.

For the record, I'm not a fan of what comes out the other end either.  When I take her for a walk and have to clean THAT up, I feel dirty until I can get home and scrub my hands.  If there is no trash nearby and I have to carry the bag for a long time, it really grosses me out.  I should start carrying hand sanitizer.

I promise to try and make the next one something less disgusting.