I smell piss. I have smelled it for a couple of days but couldn’t find it. At first I thought maybe it was my imagination (I have a strong affinity for smells). I have also been looking for a couple of days. It is not the frog princess’s pee though. It is Chico Mendes. I have nearly passed out 3 different times from sniffing and bending down to figure out where the smell is coming from. I’ve learned from the dog!
The dog has been taking this whole baby thing pretty well considering he’s a spoiled brat.Â He’s been a special needs dog since I got him. I love him and all but we’ve all known he’s got a few screws loose. Nothing dangerous or anything he’s just, well, special. I knew at some point in time he was going to act out. He’s been good with the baby. Sniffs, licks a toe when I’m not looking and generally runs away when she attempts to crawl his way mesmerized by the wagging tail.
Today, I found it. And I am writing about it to keep my cool. My books. The damn dog peed on my books! I love books. I have tons of them (just ask The Man and he’ll tell you about the 50 boxes of books I’m still trying to unpack after we moved to this house – for the record and in my defense, I was pregnant when we moved. Oh and we didn’t have bookcases for all those books). I have books on my coffee table and end tables. The nice books. The ones that my friends tell me say “hey-look-at-my-fancy-schmancy-books collection”. But to me they just say “I have a ton of books I love and why should I buy a stupid vase to go there when I can display a book that you don’t have to worry about breaking”. At the bottom of one of my end tables I have two of my favorite cool hardcover books. 101 Salivations and Cataclysms. I think there’s a message there. He peed on books about animals.
Does he feel like we’re peeing on him? Mistreating him perhaps by not giving him all the attention he craves? He is after all an attention whore. Is he upset that we don’t spend as much time together as we used to? That I don’t take him on early morning walks as I used to before I got put on bed rest. Is he angry? Resentful? Plotting against all things I hold precious while I am at work? I can barely get out of bed to make it to work on time! Doesn’t he understand that things have changed in this house? How come he wants us to be all understanding of him when he takes a shit in the house but he does not wish to be mindful of the fact that our entire world is different now?
The damn dog is currently in the laundry room where his crate resides. I think that perhaps a little retraining is in order. But, my feelings are hurt. See, lately, I’ve realized that I wasn’t spending as much time with him. And I’ve been cuddling up on the couch like the good old days (is this what prompted the pee-fest? Is he suffering from PTSD and my attempts at rekindling our past sent him into a peeing frenzy?). I thought we were cool. That he understood that now that the frog princess sleeps through the night, I’d be able to spend a little more time with him.
But noooo. The damn dog peed on my books. And that is unacceptable. My sister has been vying for him to move to D.C. with her. And right now, I am inclined to let him go for a few weeks as a test run. Of course, the damn dog is a Florida dog and if the temperature dips down to below 75 he wants his ski jacket and refuses to be walked if it’s too early in the morning BUT, my sister knows this and thinks he will be okay.
I always had illusions that my baby girl would grow up around the dog. Now, I’m not so sure. But I love him still and remember when he was my only baby. Now, understandably, he gets treated like, well, a damn dog! I don’t know what I’ll do. He came to be a member of this family in such a special way, I don’t think I could ever just let him go. I am trying to work things out! I really am. I wish he’d try too. I know he’s “just a dog” but he’s mine. Of course, as I type this, I still smell piss. Probably because the scent has been burned into my nostrils and now I can’t get rid of it. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go sniff some more and figure out if there’s more of it in the vicinity.
If you call me and I don’t answer: stay alert. I may be passed out from too much carbon monoxide in my system as I sniff my way through every inch of this house. Feel free to come over and rescue me, the dog is safe in the laundry room!