The Chaos Chronicles: The Literal & Metaphorical Shitstorm Edition

Let me be really honest with you — life’s been chaotic lately.

We’re moving. We’re packing. Chronic illness is flaring. My dad’s latest letdown has me in my feelings.

But today?

Today, life decided to get real symbolic… and real messy.

This isn’t just a story about moving.

This isn’t just a story about animals.

This… is a story about how when life hands you shit — literally or metaphorically — you’ve got two choices: break down… or clean it up.

Spoiler alert: I did a little of both.

It All Started With a Poopocalypse…

Picture this:

Boxes everywhere. The front door wide open, loading the U-Haul. Three dogs. Three cats. Pure chaos contained in one room to keep everyone safe. Everything seemed fine. We were checking on them every 20 minutes.

All was quiet… until it wasn’t.

Jay walks past the room, hears crying. Opens the door… It. Was. Shit. Central.

Diarrhea — everywhere. On the carpet. On the dog beds. On the walls. All over Luca, our always-in-someone’s-business Husky/Shepherd.. His chest. His side. His paws. And all over checkers, our sweet older sensitive boy. 

And because the poop was pressed right up against the door… when Jay opened it, it literally spread — across the carpet, into the hallway, straight into our moving-day nightmare. Sophie? All over her paws as well. The kitten? Paws and front legs, covered.

The two older cats? Somehow escaped unscathed — legends.

Cue absolute, full-blown chaos:

✔ Trying to keep the dogs from running out the front door

✔ Trying to keep the shit from spreading — while it’s literally spreading

✔ A trail of shit from the bedroom, down the hallway, to the balcony

✔ Me with Clorox wipes in one hand, toilet paper in the other, trying to contain the biohazard zone

Jay’s corralling animals for baths. I’m hunting for towels. I can’t find towels. Panic starts creeping in. Inside? Full breakdown brewing. Outside? Crazy panic laugh. Heart racing. Head spinning. Goosefraba.

And all I can think is…

This is life. Literally.

Sometimes it’s shit. Sometimes it stains everything.

But you’ve got two options:

✔ Sit in it. Cry. Let it stain your life.

✔ Or breathe. Feel the feelings. Laugh at the insanity. Clean it up.

And let me tell you… Old me? Would’ve melted down. Full spiral. Yelling. Crying. Throwing a fit.

But not today.

Today? I cleaned the mess. I cried a little. I laughed a lot. I had my “this is too much” moment… then I dealt with it.

Because whether it’s literal dog diarrhea…

Or trauma…

Or family drama…

Or life not going the way you wanted…

The shit’s still gonna happen.

But you? You decide if it stains you… or if you clean it up and keep going.

 

 

 

The Aftermath: Soggy Dogs, Angry Cats, & One Pooped-Out Mom

 

In case you were wondering how things wrapped up after the great poopocalypse… let me give you the full play-by-play:

✔ Checkers: The culprit and victim of his own crime. Sweet, sensitive boy with shit on his chest, his side, his back, and his paws. Clearly stressed from the move. Clearly confused how things escalated so fast.

✔ Sophie: Our soggy, betrayed little queen. Freshly bathed. Sitting on the couch, dripping water everywhere, looking like I personally ruined her life.

✔ Luca: Poor innocent bystander… sort of. Covered from being in the room during Checkers’ indoor accident. Scrubbed head to toe. Confused. Mildly traumatized. Karma served for always having his nose where it doesn’t belong.

✔ Dani the Kitten: Fourteen weeks old. Four baths in two weeks. Today? Drenched, aggressively grooming himself, glaring at me like I’m the villain in his origin story.

✔ Moby & Leon: The only sane ones. Zero cares given. Moby just wants his food. Leon’s avoiding the crime scene entirely like the smart king he is.

Meanwhile… I’m still scrubbing. Still disinfecting. Still laughing through the tears. Still dealing with the metaphorical and literal mess… because that’s life.

 

 

 

The Mystery Solved: How We Put the Pieces Together

 

Later, Jay takes the boys out for a walk — because, well, after all that? They had to go outside.

And that’s when it all clicked. Jay sees it. Checkers, poor guy, goes to do his business… And it’s diarrhea. Again. The lightbulb moment happens.

 

Suddenly it all makes sense: Checkers was the original culprit in the room. His stress. His upset tummy. His indoor accident. The shit on the carpet, the walls, himself… and Luca.

So Luca wasn’t entirely an innocent bystander in life… but he was innocent in this particular shitstorm. That boy is constantly trying to lick Checkers’ butt — we tell him to leave it alone all the time.

Well… today?

He got a little more than he bargained for. Instant karma. Lesson learned… maybe.

 

 

 

The Moral of the Story: You Can’t Control the Shitstorm — But You Can Handle It

 

Whether it’s dog poop, family drama, moving stress, or generational trauma… life is gonna hand you messes.

Sometimes literal.

Sometimes emotional.

Sometimes both — all at once.

But you? You have options. You can sit in it. Let it stain every corner of your life.

Or…

You can laugh. You can cry. You can say “Goosefraba.” And you can clean up the mess.

It’s not always pretty. It’s not always easy. But damn, does it make one hell of a story.

Welcome to The Chaos Chronicles — Spray-Ass Edition. Where life gets messy, karma gets involved, but we survive.

XO - Ashley Jo 💋