Yes, Officer. There's a Rational Explanation for All That Blood...

Sooo, this week I had considerable insight into what it's like to try to cover one's tracks after a murder.  Put down the phone.  You don't have to call the police.  It's not like that...though it would have been entertaining to try to explain had an officer walked in.

My four-year-old thought his clownfish were super, super hungry, so he dumped about a month's worth of fish food into their tank.  I got my husband out of bed and we scrambled to remove the food from the tank as we listened to a chorus of, "I'm reawy, reawy sowwy, Mommy."

An hour into the clean up and water change, I leaned down to wipe up some water that had dripped onto the floor.  To my horror, I saw copious quantities of blood on the wall.  Apparently I missed a couple (a lot) of streaks when I cleaned up the carnage the week before.

In my defense, it went down early in the morning.  I can't be held accountable for a cleanup that happened before my morning coffee.

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My dog wakes us up at the ass-crack of dawn every morning with heavy breathing and the heavy whump, whump of a Labrador tail. A few days before Halloween, morning began as usual with the hot breath on my face, the wagging of tail, and the cries of my son dying to get out of bed at 5:45 am.  I staggered into the kitchen to feed the salivating labrador and the hyper-spasto springer spaniel as the lab's tail thudded into the wall all the way down the hall and into the kitchen.

I fed them, and when I bent down to drop the food into their bowls, I was a little surprised to see blood all over the floor.  I looked up.  Blood all over the walls.  I went down the hall.  Blood all over the floor and the walls.  And not just a little bit.  A fuck ton, and still damp.

I hollered for my husband, who jumped pretty fast at the words "blood everywhere."  Before I could say, "What the fuzz?" we were searching for the source.  The boy was still bouncing on his bed, so it had to be one of the dogs.

I saw a heavy concentration of drips behind the Labrador, so I peeked at her tail.  The tip was pretty mangled, but apparently didn't hurt much because she was happy to whack into the walls and still eat her breakfast.  The best we could figure is that one of us, probably the one who is significantly shorter than the other two, closed her tail into the sliding door.  Her tail didn't just streak down the hall.  It frickin' sprayed as she wagged, flinging droplets as far as the eye could see. 

We did a comical wrap job on the tail, kicked her outside, and grabbed mops and disinfectant wipes, all before 6 am.  Our cleanup was frantic and haphazard, trying frantically to get to work on time. 

I discovered a few things that might be useful as you write your crime investigation scenes.

1. Ewwww.
2. I missed blood that was in the shadows cast by my lighting.
3. I missed the blood in corners.
4. I missed the blood that blended in with the texture of my flooring.

So, benefit from one of my "WTF?" ways to wake up.  More on that later, but yes, the dog is fine.