High Alert

Heidi knew right away. "It smells funny in here," she said the minute we walked in the door from Maine.

My nose is la little less sensitive, and my temperament is a little less dire. "Maybe it's just a little stuffy since we've been gone so long," I suggested, dropping my load and returning to the van for another.

"I don't think it's up here," Heidi reported from the landing, "but I did scoop the litter box."

"That should take care of it," I nodded as we both headed out the door.

"I think it's down here," Heidi said when we re-entered the house. After a cursory inspection, she shook her head and went upstairs to unpack, while I stayed downstairs to put away all the things that belonged and to start dinner.

In the kitchen, I thought I'd found the culprit when I opened the recycling and found an un-rinsed cat food container. "That was me," Josh confessed when I pointed it out. "It's only been in there a couple hours."

As I continued to unpack and cook, I noticed a fair swarm of fruit flies over by the potato bin. The unmistakable stench of rotten potatoes rose to my nose as I approached, and upon further inspection I discovered several blackened potatoes collapsed into their own disgusting goo. "I found it!" I called up to Heidi and then dumped the lot of them into the trash, tied off the bag, and handed it to Josh to take up to the trash enclosure. 

"She knew there was something wrong," he said.

"Yep," I shook my head, "she sure did."