There’s other stuff I want to write about tonight, but the dog just pissed two feet away from me (right behind my back as I was sitting here typing) and I need to clean it up… I think she’s trying to make some kind of point. I don’t think she likes it when Linette’s upstairs reading and when I’m working on the computer and not paying attention to her. This is the third time she’s pissed in the house and every time it’s under similar circumstances. Linette’s just now coming around to the conclusion that I reached a few days ago, which is that this might be the reason she was found out on her own, wondering the cold, mean streets of southwest Detroit. My guess is that someone “accidentally” left the gate open one morning after a long night of sopping up piss with paper towels. You know, staying up late cleaning up dog piss and scrubbing floors can make one tired enough that leaving a gate open is an easy mistake to make. (Picture me yawning at this point.)

We lover her though. We’ll deal with it. If worse comes to worse, we’ll get her some kind of diapers, or, better yet, we’ll rig up some kind of catheter system. I’ve got some plastic tubing and duct tape in the basement.

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