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white shaggy carpet sample, a closeup shot

 

This story has a very important preface… My parents love my dog, Tucker, a lot. They have 4 (human) grandchildren and I’m getting a little worried that Tucker is actually their favorite. He gets: Christmas presents, clothes, endless attention and the not-so-occasional pup cup from Dairy Queen. So it may go without saying that Tucker never, EVER gets in trouble at his “Nana and Poppy’s” house. Seriously, never. He once nervously chewed a corner off of their brand new grandfather clock and my dad proceeded to claim it was his own fault because he “left him alone for way too long.” A whopping 45 minutes.

I feel obligated to mention that Tucker is a wonderful dog and he doesn’t do a whole lot to get himself in trouble. He does seem to have an infatuation with chocolate however. I think he may have picked it up from me.

So here we are, the day before “The Incident” Christmas Eve 2015. As we celebrated with presents, laughter, and stories of St. Nick, Tucker cautiously waited for anything to steal attention away from the bowl of red and green M&M’s. His moment came when the ham had finished cooking and we all headed into the dining room. His patience had paid off. The Tiffany song “I Think We’re Alone Now” muffled the sounds of Jingle Bell Rock as he went in for the kill.

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Tucker (right) sits with Bricker on the worlds most dangerous carpet color.

I sat unaware in the next room eating my mama’s famous mashed potatoes when I heard a glass bowl clink ever so slightly. Surprisingly, all of the kids were in their seats. I looked to my dad’s seat and noticed Tucker was absent from his standard position at Poppy’s feet waiting for table scraps. Quickly I dashed from the table and into the living room when I locked eyes with what I can only describe as an 11 pound embodiment of guilt. A single, half eaten M&M slowly fell from Tucker’s mouth and rolled onto the floor like a bullet shell during an old mob stand off.

“TUCKER!” He froze. The dinning room erupted, some with concern others with laughter, “What happened? Is everything alright?” I walked back in and announced that my dog had just quietly consumed an entire bowl of M&M’s to which my dad responded, “Well we shouldn’t have left them out.” I reiterate, NEVER in trouble. Tucker used this time to slowly back out of the room. I think he may have been under the impression that we wouldn’t notice if he just walked away slowly and backwards.

I watched the presents open as I frantically left a message with my vets office. Without an immediate response I quickly became a 21st Century detective with my side-kick, Google. “Dead Dog M&M’s” was the initial search. I was too frantic to create a full thought. All the while keeping a watchful eye on my little Tucky to make sure he is doing okay, and even more so to make sure he didn’t eat any more chocolate. If you have ever seen my mother’s house you know… there is always chocolate. She’s the real Chocolate Queen. Google eventually tells me he’s gonna be just fine. We head home, all seemingly well.

THEN on the morning of December 25th 2015 it began. I heard it first. We all know that sound… the sound right before someone, or in this case, some dog vomits. I looked Tucker in the eyes as the most disturbingly Christmas themed sludge came out of the mouth of my adorable little puppy and onto my off-white carpet. Before I could fully comprehend what I just saw, another puddle of sludge unloaded. Two large, perfectly oval spots of M&M mess covered the floor of the apartment I rent, and will someday move out of. As anyone that has ever rented knows, the security deposit ($500 in this case) is dependent on the condition of the apartment when you leave.

Back to Google I went. They suggested spreading corn starch and then vacuuming but I knew that wouldn’t take care of this deeply colored stain from hell. I also really didn’t want to suck that up into my vacuum. So on this Christmas Day I: sent up a small prayer, closed one eye, gagged dramatically, and grabbed up what I could. Then I looked under my sink preparing for a search of the Where’s Waldo variety for something to clean these huge stains. Straight acid was my first choice but I quickly remembered that like most people, I didn’t actually own any acid. Then I saw it. Pee-Ez-Out. How did I not think of it??? I sell the stuff. I’ve heard several customers say vomit is cleaned right up with a few sprays. I prayed they were right. I needed something NOW to make my apartment smell much less like the Porta-Potty of a Kid Rock concert. So I sprayed… and sprayed… and sprayed some more. Meanwhile, Tucker sat there whimpering which I get, but come on… I’m the one who has to clean it!

30 minutes later I came back from the only store that was open… the gas station. Car air fresheners in hand, which I thought was a pretty creative solution. But in a Christmas Miracle I didn’t need them. (Okay lets be honest they wouldn’t have helped.)

The stain was gone and so was the smell. Security deposit secure.

Is it a little unfair for me to give a testimonial of my own product? Probably. But I needed you to know this story. I need everyone to know this story. Pee-Ez-Out for life.