True pet ownership

I think one of the hallmarks of a true pet owner is probably the number of times they’ve cleaned up their pet’s (or pets’) diarrhea inside the house.
There’s nothing like your 3AM-sleepy brain waking up because it detected a smelly what-crawled-up-your-butt-and-died stinky fart. Nothing wakes up that 3AM-sleepy brain like the realization that it’s not dog gas you’re smelling.
Not only did Simba have the runs in the bedroom this morning, but he walked it across half the bedroom. It’s bad enough having to clean it up, but when you’ve got to get on your hands and knees to wipe up crap (literally) that’s scattered across the bedroom, it’s really bad. Now the bedroom smells of bleach cleaner with the faint odour of poo underneath.
I suppose it could be worse though. I could have stepped in it while I was blindly stumbling around to see what happened. Or he could have done it all over the carpet. Or it could have been projectile diarrhea. That definitely wouldn’t have been fun to clean up.
Now I have to figure out why Simba’s having diarrhea.