Ruff, ruff, ruff ruff. Grrr. Woof, woof, woof. Grrrrrrrr. Arooooooh. Growl. Woof. Woof. Bark. Howl.
*For human translation of this post, click extended entry.
This is difficult to express, and I felt I might better find the proper words for my feelings by writing them down. I think we both know what this is about, so I won’t tip-toe around the matter any longer. This has gone on for too long already.
You have to stop shitting on my floors. Period.
It’s gross and it’s frustrating. You’ll be outside for an hour, then you bark to get back in. Almost as soon as you set your paws inside the house, you take a big healthy looking dump.
I know you think that because I’m a vegetarian and a pacifist that I’m basically a wimp. Well, think again, Mr. Cockapoo. You ain’t never caught a rabbit and you ain’t no friend of mine. *hip twist*
So, don’t doubt for a minute that I will eat your liver with farva beans and a nice bottle of chianti ala Hannibal Lector next time I have to step over a turd on my carpet.
Thank you for your kind consideration of this matter,
I share your pain. Four cats, one ferret, and a bunch of hedgehogs. *sigh*
Maybe Max is trying to tell YOU something.
As a woman about to bring home her new (and un-potty-trained) puppy in less than a week, I feel your pain, or at least know I’m about to.
Max is older than Methusula. I think he’s simply getting incontinent, which doesn’t make his poop any more pleasant to deal with, but does give him a legitimate excuse. I try not to get aggravated about it, but obviously I do. Yecch. Hence, the post.
It may be about time to do “the deed”. I love my grandson and I know hard it will be as I had to do the same with my beloved Bear. Worse than any of my divorces.
As for Jules with the new puppy, get the puppy pads, work like a charm for those days you can not be home soon enough.
you ladies are a riot!!!!!!!!!!!