Cold poop still smells like poop

I have been singing the praises of our new air conditioner. Especially since it hit 102 yesterday, a Portland record. But around 4 am, we were awoken by the smell of something awful. Even in our blissfully cool bedroom, the smell was unmiskable. It was the smell of dog poop.

Kinley had a massive accident. And it reeked.

Enough to get both of us out of bed. Kinley politely avoided all rugs and clothes but managed to get a good 3 square feet covered. Ken immediately went to clean it up; I knew there was probably more in the chamber that Kinley was so politely holding back.

And so he and I went for a walk at 4 am. And he went. And I vomited a little. And then we all went back to bed.

In all honesty, the accident was my fault; I left him with a big, juicy marrow-filled smoked dog bone when I left for work yesterday. And he ate it. And he got sick. Which got me sick. I think we have all learned an important lesson.