or A Series of Unfortunate Olfactory Events

I’m a big fan of Daniel Handler/Lemony Snicket’s A Series of Unfortunate Events. Let me be clear that I did not like the movie and whoever got Jim Carrey involved should be hurt. Not badly. But a little. Meryl Streep and Billy Connelly were both really funny, but it wasn’t enough. The books and especially the audio version of the books performed by Tim Curry are fantastic. Handler is a good writer besides. I liked The Basic Eight and have not yet taken on Adverbs but will. While what happened at Casa de Scoutsporko wasn’t as bad as what happened at 667 Dark Avenue, but it was still unfortunate.

Let’s review the circumstances.

Event 1: Acquisition of Biscuit

Biscuit D. Dog was acquired about a year ago. It was a serendipitous occasion. I drove down to the pit-bulledest shelter of all the L.A. shelters. The dog I went to look at was a biter. I was standing in the hall feeling sorry for myself and saw this merry little dog walking down the hall. I slunk out to the counter and was asking about another dog. I then asked about ms. merry tail. It turned out she was a dog who had just been brought in. Her owners were moving and wanted to have her put down. The shelter took her from them and I took her in turn. Serendipity. What I knew about Biscuit (who was then called Oreo for some inexplicable reason) was that she was sweet and cute. Both things are true.

Another thing that was true was the murderer former owners had not house-trained her. At all. We found that out very quickly. She was a secretive peer. It took weeks for me to catch her peeing to praise her for doing it outside. She wouldn’t pee on walks. It was a whole thing. We did manage to teach her a “go out” command. She’ll pee when I tell her to. She still doesn’t know how to ask, but usually if she’s agitated, I let her out and she pees.

What can derail all of this? Why the squeaky football can. She loves it so much that she worries about us taking it away from her (a legitimate worry). We usually take it when she goes out. Seems less tragic that way. Last night she had it. She needed to pee. She waited until we were in the other room and couldn’t take the football away and peed.

Here’s Biscuit in pearls. Cutest dog ever. I’m not mad at her, despite her role in the story.

Event 2: Acquisition and use of Kaboom

I like infomercials. I find their hysteria, well, hysterical. I don’t really believe them, despite Honey’s contention that I am a sucker for “new technology.” Which isn’t really new at all. Still, I want one of those automatic shower cleaners. I also allow that some products (not the Table-Mate2) sold on teevee might actually be worth having. OxiClean is a good example. Clothes seem cleaner with OxiClean, at least. The people who brought you OxiClean make a product called Kaboom. Honey saw my interest in Kaboom. Given my propensity to NOT clean, any interest I take in a cleaning product gives Honey a thrill. So she bought me some. She might have even bought me some for Christmas.

Problem is, we ended up with the wrong kind of Kaboom. I don’t know if it’s an alternative version, earlier version, or a rip-off. Instead of the basin, tub, and tile cleaner, we ended up with a fabric and carpet cleaner. Which normally would be fine. But there’s something very wrong with the alternative Kaboom. Very very wrong.

Event 3: The actual pee clean-up attempt

Biscuit’s pee was a huge mess. We started with paper towels. I then usually finish with something like Fantastic Oxy Power or Resolve or 409 Carpet or Simple Solution and the carpet pee scrubber brush. We were out of all of those cleaning products. So Honey handed me the alti-Kaboom. Which said that it was good for “pet stains.” I sprayed and scrubbed.

Even 4: The chemical reaction

I was vigorous in my cleaning approach. The result: some sort of chemical reaction that was toxic. Eyes water toxic. And it got worse as the night went on.

We went to bed to get away from it.

Event 5: Morning comes

I’m a good girl and get up to work out on my Tony Little Gazelle. (I told you I like infomercials. I should note that instead of sending Tony Little my $500, I bought my Gazelle from a guy in Hollywood who listed it on craigslist for $150). I enter the living room. Immediately every vein and artery in my head contracts. I feel nauseated. The chemical reaction has gotten worse overnight. I get some odor neutralizer. It doesn’t help. Things devolve. Head hurts. Gastrointestinal distress occurs. I don’t work out.

I’m not a chemically sensitive person. Though certain 98 cent stores will leave my mouth with a bit of a film. But whatever happened was unfortunate.

It won’t happen again, but I may not be able to live in our house for a few days. Or I’ll have to stay in bed like some Victorian swooning violet.

Kaboom.

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