Yesterday, I let our dog Scooter in the house for about five minutes. I was in the living room, playing with Loralie when he comes racing past us and jumps up at the door, wanting to go out. As a put him outside I thought his foot was bleeding, but then I realized it was PINK PAINT. The door to the garage had not closed all the way and he had managed to trot right through some hot pink paint, and then proceeded to run through the entire house, leaving little puppy prints behind him! When I realized the amount of scrubbing this was going to require I literally cried. I called Caleb, my knight in shining armour, and more importantly the resident "carpet Nazi", and he left work to come help me scrub. It is really probably a very good thing I didn't realize what the dog had done until he was safely outside or I very well may have murdered him. Never a dull moment for us housewives, eh?