I've always made fun of those people who dress their dogs up, cook them special meals, and take them to the vet to get their teeth brushed. I'm a hypocrite. Just weeks ago I resorted to a canine version of "bootie shorts" with Depends stuck in them to keep my two dogs from peeing on my couch, my pool table leg, my rug...and anything else that might seem like an appealing urinal for these mutts. If it weren't for my daughter Charli's strong attachments to Max and D'Marcus, I'd have blessed two other lucky families with an old, grouchy, neurotic Schnauzer and a sweet, adorable, dumb-as-a-rock long-haired doxie. They are making me crazy. Max was the perfect dog for almost 9 years--never pooped or peed in the house--unless he ate a carton of chocolate coverd almonds from Trader Joe's, for instance. Then we adopted D'Marcus from the shelter. Max's testosterone kicked in and he decided to show everyone who the alpha male around our house was. He pees on purpose. D'Marcus, on the other hand, pees submissively. If he thinks you're mad or disappointed with him, he flips over and turns on the spout. So we have to reprimand him in a syrupy sweet quiet voice...."D'Marcus baby, get off the table please. Put the steak down for mommy...good boy." My son said, "I'm gonna try that. Next time you're mad at me, I'm just gonna flip over and pee."
I have become the person I've always made fun of, only worse. A dog in a tutu beats a dog wearing bootie shorts with Depends stuffed inside anyday.