April 25, 2010; Pissbizz

I pissed in the bed again.

By the time Skeeter got up, Boo-Boo was once again accepting blame, saying he was late getting me out for the morning walk yadda-yadda-yadda. That was fine with me, but I could see it wasn't flying with Skeet who glared at me so violently my butt clenched and my asshole puckered.

He was bellowing, "HOW IS IT EVERY FUCKING DOG I'VE EVER HAD HAD BEEN ABLE TO GO 14, 16, EVEN 18 HOURS BEFORE THE FIRST WALK OF THE DAY BUT THIS LITTLE FUCKWAD NEEDS TWO WALKS BEFORE FUCKING NOON!"

When Boo went off to work, the fat one lit into me, "What the fuck is in your head!?"

Okay, what was really in my head was that I needed to pee—not urgently, mind—and the bed was warm and Boo wasn't even dressed yet so I did it and I changed places away from the wet spot and went back to a pleasant slumber. I couldn't very well say that to Skeeter who would tear me a new asshole from the inside out.

My head went click-click-click and—poof!—lightbulb!

"You don't know what my fucking life is like," I howled.

"YOUR LIFE!? YOUR LIFE!!!!????" he shrieked.

"Think about it! I'm a basket case. I'm worried about your health, Boo is a ticking time bomb! If he doesn't start bleeding from the mouth from ulcers, he's heading toward a coronary! Think about how that affects me, goddammit!"

He immediately shut up. He calmed. He said, "I see," and sat down.

Good-fucking-Jesus, I'm brilliant! Fact is that humans and their woes can be a pain in the ass, but ultimately all animals are like turtles: we pull our heads in and go to sleep as soon as the moaning starts; we don't even hear it most of the time—it's like bug noises. I realized this talking out loud stuff, after all, was a very, very good idea on my part. Humans have reason, you see. Too fucking much of it. This means you can get around them if you're smart enough and can out-reason them.

And—Lordie! Lordie!—right then, right here, I was not only smart enough but oh-so-much-smarter than Skeeter!

He took me into his arms and curled me up to him on the La-Z-Boy and said, "I guess it's been rough for all of us."

I sighed pitifully.

"Poor baby," he said.

I sighed again.

Then he took my nose between a finger and his thumb and squeezed it ever-so-slightly and gurgled with rage, "Just how fucking retarded do you think I am!"

"Whud?" I said, now nostril-less.

"I've been sicker, he's been crazier, and you've been a much better dog before and now you're trying to tell me that you peeing on the bed is about your stress!" He squeezed my nose a little more. I wasn't dying, but the suggestion that I might was in that little squeeze. He went on: "Here's what's going to happen: if you ever, ever, ever pee in the bed again, you are going to sleep in the kitchen, in the dark, alone, on the mat on the floor, for three nights. I don't think you liked that much, the last time, did you?"

"Nerp," I said, shuddering.

"And from now on, when he gets up, you get up. No more napping while he rushes about getting ready. If you really, really, really need to pee, then you do it on the floor. But I warn you," and he was looking into my eyes, still squeezing my nose, "we're not going to take that for very long either."

"Er-key," I sniveled. He finally let go and there was a long silence. There was something I really had to say but I knew I would have to be verrrrrrrry careful. "May I add one little thing?" He puffed out with what was left of his anger but then nodded. "Why is it you two can go and pee and shit any fucking time you want, day or night, and I'm expected to hold it in."

"Interesting point," he said. "Yes, interesting indeed." But the tone was odd and the atmosphere in the room stank of danger so I did not press it any farther. "Well, for one thing, we're middle-aged men and these things happen. When you get older, certain allowances will be made for your age too. But, and here's the most important thing: YOU ARE OUR FUCKING DOG!"

Hell! that didn't seem fair at all but, as I said, it would have been unwise to press any more points at this particular moment.

This is for cogitation, later discussion and debate, even. Let's just say that right there, right then, I was just glad to have a nose and I was also might happy to be able to slap my tongue up to it to make sure it was still there.