Dog Poop, Name Brands, and One Man's Epiphany

I came home the other day to find a couple of lovely surprises waiting for me from my girlfriend's dogs Carl and Bella. They had left two little presents just for me - one in the living room and one in the bathtub. The turd in the living room was typical - their usual M.O., a means of punishment that they utilize relatively frequently when they feel that they've been left alone for a tad too long. However, the turd in the bathtub still perplexes me. Why the bathtub? Were they attempting to defile the area where I clean myself to demonstrate their sense of irony? My girlfriend thinks they roll down car windows, open doors, and turn on faucets on purpose, but I'm not so sure. I still think it's just luck. I'm still not convinced that their that smart... or vindictive. But I digress.

Anyway, this had the potential to be an extremely explosive situation. My roommate isn't a big fan of the dogs, and I expected him home any minute. If he were to come home and find these two stink bombs waiting for him, he'd surely ban the pups from the apartment for life. Thus, time was of the essence. I scrambled to find all the necessary cleaning supplies - air freshener, Lysol, carpet cleaner, Clorox, stain removers, Febreeze, etc. I found the air freshener, Lysol, carpet cleaner, stain remover, and Febreeze, but I couldn't find the Clorox. Clorox was critical if I were going to pull this off - the fresh, clean smell of bleach would undoubtedly mask the scent of doodoo. I ransacked the kitchen, the laundry room, and the bathroom to no avail. The Clorox was nowhere to be found.

Precious seconds were slipping away, so I decided to do the best with what I had. I took care of the crap in the living room first using Lysol, carpet cleaner, stain remover, and Febreeze liberally. I then moved to the bathtub. Since I couldn't find the Clorox, I had to revert to plan B. I slathered the floor of the bathtub with a mixture of hand soap, Head & Shoulders, and Old Spice 2-in-1 Hair & Body Wash. I then threw on the shower and rinsed the thick amalgamation of bath and body care products down the drain. As I emerged from the bathroom, I heard my roommate coming in. I was terrified that he might get a slight whiff of the aftermath. Luckily though, as a result of the thick clouds of Febreeze and air freshener still lingering in the air, he assumed that I had just suddenly gone on a wild cleaning frenzy - not my style at all, by the way, but whatever. He actually thanked me for doing something that he's too damn lazy to do and thus was none the wiser. I had saved Carl and Bella's stinky asses. They are safe and welcome (relatively speaking) at my apartment... for now.

Recalling the incident later on, I had a sudden realization. I'm surprisingly particular when it comes to certain cleaning supplies and body care products. I have never thought of myself as being that focused on the brand names of products like these, but I apparently am. When I was scrambling to find the necessary cleaning supplies, I thought of the products just as I listed them above - "What do I need? I need [generic] air freshener, Lysol disinfectant spray, [generic] carpet cleaner, Clorox, [generic] stain remover, and Febreeze." The same for the body care products - generic hand soap, Head & Shoulders shampoo, and Old Spice 2-in-1 Hair & Body Wash. These are all products for which I have never consciously considered brands when purchasing. However, I obviously have strong brand loyalty to certain products. How deeply does my subconscious brand loyalty run? The same day that I pulled off the crazy caca caper cover-up, I found a full bottle of generic brand bleach in the laundry room. I had overlooked it because it wasn't Clorox brand bleach. Go figure.



The Culprits




Carl




Bella

(They sure look guilty, don't they?)