I figured out why I am tired. Turns out, I am not old. Well, maybe I am. But I am tired because this darn puppy is sucking the life out of me, one drop at a time.
The unseasonably warm weather means that we are awash in a sea of mud around here. Dusty has taken to spending hours outside in the warmth, playing and romping and digging and exploring to his heart's content, and then presenting himself at the back door with mud up to his elbows. Dog baths are becoming a fairly common occurrence; sometimes all of them get in on the act. This crew (otherwise known as "how I spent Valentine's Day evening") should give you a good idea of what I'm up against.
The poor washing machine never gets a break.
This morning, my LSH came home from his run to find the puppy waiting by the front door, smelling to high heaven. We're not sure what he rolled in, but it was nauseating. I wasn't in my rumpliest pajamas this time. No, this time I was in the only pair of silk pajamas that I own (because all of my other pajamas are in the wash, of course). I ended up on the back porch in a T-shirt, green wellies, and not too much else.
Luckily, it was a pretty mild morning. Also luckily, we don't have any neighbors.
And now the whole house smells like eau du wet dog.