Wait for it…there is a moral to the story

Wait for it…there is a moral to the story

Remember the battles I had with Captain CrapsAlot?  I was so proud that he was getting over his issues with my carpet and his apparent hatred for it.  In fact, I dare say we have moved past it.  I’d even go so far as to say we’ve “bonded.” It has been ages since I have called him anything that begins with a 4-letter word.

Last night I was sitting there on the floor in the family room.  I admit that I was not paying attention to much of anything going on around me.  All of us were in there “watching” a movie.  Yes, I was a bit side-tracked.  I confess that I have been more than a little obsessed with a project I have been working on lately.  Every waking moment- and many sleeping ones- I am working on it. (Even if it looks like I am doing something else like, say, driving or listening to you talk, I am really working in my head on my project.)

HOWEVER, (you knew that was coming, didn’t you)….however, I have not neglected the dog.  I would type a line or two, throw the tennis ball.  Type a few lines, rub the belly.  Type a few lines, take Captain CrapsAlot outside to …well, take care of business.  I even took him to the freaking dog park last week.  I am trying to reward our new bond with things that make him happy.  But does he appreciate it?

No.

So there I sit…typing…when all of the sudden my entire back and side are wet and warm nd smelling strongly of URINE.  Yes, the dog walked OVER to me.  (He had to get up and walk to me!) And he PEED all over my back.  What the f*ck?

I jumped up and screeched in an insane, freaked out Mommy Dearest way, “He PEED on me!” Then I did the “GrossGrossGrossGrossGross I am going to vomit all over the carpet” dance.  Of course the dance was accompanied by the choral strains of “What the hell what the hell what the hell?!” I pretty much danced and mumbled in horror, “What the hell?” all the way to the shower.  I stripped down- still mumbling to myself- and scrubbed myself raw.  It wasn’t until I was halfway through the process of scrubbing the skin off of my body that I realized I hadn’t even taken my glasses off yet.  (Did I mention I had just gotten out of the shower less than a half an hour before this?!)

Fresh, clean, piss-free I walked back into the family room and announced, “I am here to confirm the old saying….

…Yes, it is better to be pissed off than pissed on.”

**[UPDATE] Yes, people, he did it AGAIN!  What the hell??  Seriously, if anyone here knows what makes a dog suddenly decide it is a good idea to PEE on the person who feeds him and plays with him, really, you must tell me how the hell to MAKE HIM STOP.  Short of sending him off to the “puppy farm” where all pain in the ass dogs go, I am at a loss here.  Right now, the game plan is to keep him in his kennel until he is 2 years old.  Sounds like a safe plan to me!  Ugh! 


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