Marcy Life Notes

When Nick saw me taking pictures tonight, he demanded that I start this post by stating that our dog, is in fact, potty trained. Ok, got that over with, now I can start:

I am seriously questioning whether Indy is potty trained. Sometimes (and by sometimes I mean sporadically since we got our little bundle of joy 2 1/2 years ago) he has taken to peeing on the floor. But he doesn’t just pee like a normal dog. Your every day Fido has the courtesy and decency to pee in one neat, easy to clean puddle. Our dog walks all through the living room, spreading it around like a sprinkler watering a parched lawn on the fourth of July. Graphic and gross, I know, but I think you have to see it to believe it:

Now I love this dog more than life itself, but when you layer the pee on top of the inch of dog hair, our glamorous high rise apartment becomes something out of a COPS episode – you know, when the cops bust into the crack den and find the passed out parents and illiterate kids living in squalor.

Since this isn’t the dog’s normal MO, I am not sure what to do. Should I yell and scream? Should I bring him to an animal communicator to see if he has repressed memories from puppyhood that are surfacing? Some tell me (hi Mom) that I should “spank his little *ss” and he will get the message. I just can’t do it. Anyone have a better solution? 

The fact is, Indy knows that he has done something wrong. One look at his guilty little face and my heart melts. How could it not?

The conclusion I have to come to is that our dog has trained us. He knows that he has us wrapped around his white tipped little paw. I hold out hope that some day I will become the Alpha in his eyes, but if that doesn’t happen I am going to make damn sure that our next place has a doggie door.