Hugh spent all day in Neighboring City, digging up the sewer lines in Queen B's backyard. He gets to go back tomorrow to dig even more. I have no words for how much I admire his ability to deal with the crappy stuff that home ownership throws at us, because, there is no way in hell that I would be able to deal with raw sewage spewing into the shower the way that man did.
Speaking of raw sewage, guess what we recently discovered is one of Boomer's favorite treats?
Cat poop.
Now, I may not be up to trenching sewer lines, but I can most definitely handle a crisis of this minuscule size, I mean, right? Right!
So, the litter box now resides in a gated community, where the dog is (hypothetically) barred from scavenging it for fecal treats.
Wow. There's a sentence I never pictured myself typing.
Problem (theoretically) solved!
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