I Prefer El Gato

There are a lot of things that Octopussy hasn't done in the 4 years that I've owned her. These include getting a job, doing the laundry, and learning Spanish. Probably the most impressive item from this list is that she has never peed anywhere but in her litter box; her urinary record is literally flawless.

Last week, I began to realize how important a flawless urinary record is. Laura's dog, who I spend a lot of time with also and could probably call my dog but choose not to after last week, is very old and I think she's losing her bladder control. That sounds a little sad, but here's something not so sad: she's peeing like a freight train. All day and all night, that dog is now peeing on something.

Like I mentioned, it happened last week while Laura happened to be out of the country. While I'm no dog expert, I am familiar with the art of pee removal; it's like any other spilled liquid, but grosser. And while I didn't really enjoy the act, I was diligent with my clean-ups. The problem was, I'm only one man. I must eat, sleep, work, and take care of my gums. The dog doesn't have any of these obligations, and so she devoted every moment of our time together to peeing on the same exact spot in the living room.

The smell. Good God, the smell! Walking past the 4 square foot rectanglet that she saturated was like walking into a museum for canine bodily function. It was so, so bad, and all of this was after I spent literally tens of dollars on both Febreeze and Resolve carpet sprays. These sprays didn't do a damn thing. In fact, I think they joined together with the urine to form a super stink, capable of being smelled from space.

Anyway, Laura got back last night and she's already on the case. The house smells roughly 100 times better, putting it somewhere between a leper colony and a tuna-canning facility. As for me, I now appreciate Octo in a whole nother way. Consider the hairball frenzy, little friend.