Sunday, May 08, 2005

A little home improvement DIY, just like the experts do it

So I've never been very fond of the ugly linoleum flooring in the bathroom. It is a large sheet meant to look like small rectangular grey-and-white specked tiles. Quite ugly. But ignorable.

Well, apparently I wasn't the only one who found it ugly. Friday, I come home from work, go into the kitchen, greet my ever-ecstatic-to-see-me dog Rion and then step into the washroom. My jaw hits the floor. It seems that Rion has gotten bored and decided to undertake some home renovation. How sweet. A giant patch of floor is missing. Where there used to be floor tile, there is now only whatever the underflooring is made of. The hole in the flooring is about two feet in length and one foot across. I also would like to note for the record that I found less than the equivalent amount of flooring lying scattered around the room, making me fear for the intestinal integrity of my poor little pooch.

Though I am happy to announce that while linoleum flooring is not a recommended substitute for dog food, it is not lethal. A little bit of upset puppy tummy has been experienced but it hasn't stopped Rion from nibbling on further bits when our backs have been turned.

ps. As I was about to post this, it turned out that in Rion's latest smelly deposit, there was a fully-intact ear plug. I don't even know where he picked that up, and I'm not going to think about it anymore. Oi vay.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Judy busted her elbow the same year Brian was born. She was taking the train to visit him when some porter slipped and hit her. Passengers say she screamed twice before keeling over in the aisle. Everyone assisted her off the train at the next stop so she could get medical attention. Thankfully, a doctor appeared immediately so she didn't have to wait at the hospital emergency long.

She starred lovingly into the doctor's eyes while he set her arm but the doctor told her she would never be able to salute again. They offered her drugs for the pain but she refused and no one came to lend support in her time of need.
She remained in the hospital for thirty-three weeks. She arm turned black from the break.

"Do you think it's possible to live like this?" she asked the doctor.

"You're going to die soon," he told her. "I won't help you. It's time."

She recalled everything vividly. The doctor's eyes, the emergency room - red, the colour of blood - the beautiful pink flannel hospital robe she chose to wear. She liked the looks the other patients gave her when she strutted through the hospital in her new sexy clothes - the look of death in her face as her blackened arm tried to salute without success.