I have been dreading writing about this. So much so that I almost didn’t. I almost let it go out into the wide world of “stuff that never gets blogged about” land. But I pledged to jot down as much of this experience as I possibly could, and that includes the moments like these.
So you remember back when Scout had a number of “accidents”? You know, here here here here and here. You remember how we thought we were done with them? You see where I’m going with this.
Scout had a fun but not overly exhausting Saturday. We took her to Ranger’s house, and she and Ranger mounged on raw hide and played with each other and some toys while L, B, and I watched some basketball. She went on a long walk, enjoyed the good weather, and had a nice day that tuckered her out appropriately.
The only thing we can think is that she was tired. No, scratch that, lazy is the right word.
At 8:43 p.m., Scout curled up on her bed. At 8:45 p.m. sharp (seriously, we were watching), she stood up and peed, right there on her dog bed, right where she was standing and were seconds ago she had been sleeping. DEAR GOD. Let the freaking out commence.
So we cleaned it all up, popped her bed cover in the washing machine, did our best to mop up the inside padding, soused the entire living room and padding with Nature’s Miracle, and marched her butt outside. She could tell that we were upset with her. When she got back inside we kept cleaning and she stood there watching us, this forlorn look on her face like, “But guys, it’s just pee. And I was tired. What else did you expect me to do?” (How about ask to go out?!)
Then we put her to bed.
We managed to hold off against her best I-love-you face until we went to bed, too. Then we opened the crate and she came out and curled in our laps, licking our feet and rolling onto her back for tummy rubs.
We laid in bed and talked about it while Scout snored and Zoey watched us from the foot of the bed. We couldn’t, and still can’t really, figure it out. We finally decided we think she was really tired and lazy. Too lazy to want to walk down the stairs to go outside. She just peed. That was her logic.
It reminded me of a friend whose teenager came home one day and said, “Mom, my car won’t drive forward. It only works in reverse.” She looked at him, stunned, and said, “Then how did you drive home?” He said, perfectly serious, “Oh. I just drove home in reverse. The hills were the only hard part.”
Teenage logic. What else is there to say?