Carpet Stain Police

Zigzag followed me up the stairs and then ventured out on her own, sniffing around from room-to-room looking for the cats.

“Are Zigzag’s paws wet?” Charlene yelled from the bedroom.

The only thing Charlene is more protective about than the cats is the carpet. Some couples argue about money, some argue about sex, we argue about stains on the carpet.  

Charlene is the carpet stain police. She can spot a stain from a mile away and she does everything short of tasting it to effectively trace its origin. The origin typically isn’t difficult to find, however. At least eighty-five percent of the time the trail either leads to me or Zigzag. And, if it leads to Zigzag it leads back to me because I get in trouble for whatever Zigzag does.

When I first moved in with Charlene about two years ago, there was no carpet stain police, nor were there any rules in place to protect the carpet.  Charlene would argue there was no need for the carpet police before I moved in. She would say the carpet stain police and the rules she enforces were born out of necessity to protect the carpet from me.

“I SAID… ‘Are Zigzag’s paw’s wet?” Charlene yelled with a hint of aggravation from her warm cozy bed.

I gave her my standard response: “I don’t think so.”

“Her paws better not be wet,” Charlene warned. “If her paws are wet it’s gonna make me maaaaad!”

Charlene’s focus soon shifted. Zigzag’s nose finally found Mr. Howell sitting on the pillow next to Charlene’s face. This is a regular morning ritual where Zigzag locates Mr. Howell on the pillow next to Charlene’s face, tries to sniff his butt, and then whines when Mr. Howell jumps off and runs under the bed. This very ritual also lets Charlene know it’s time for her to get out of bed.