No, Thank YOU

Well after the Couch Incident we had to come up with some sort of solution to our dog’s behavioural issues  that didn’t involve driving straight to the Humane Society and handing her over.  We talked about crating but decided it was too traumatic for both her and us as her former owners had punished her in her crate.  We tried to crate train her a few times when when we first got her but it was too painful.  Although it’s likely that we were being conned by her, she’s crafty that way.

Anyway, the solution we came up with was to buy a little heater to heat our enclosed porch and leave her out there during the day while we’re at work.  It’s working out quite well.  The dog seems okay (confirmed by our lovely dog-walker) and for our part, it’s so nice to walk home and not be worrying what kind of day she had.  Oh yes, we had  many an incident before the critical escalation to  the Couch Incident.

It’s also been good for the cats.  I’ve seen some evidence that they’ve been out and about.  Everybody’s happy right?  Why, you’d think the cats would be practically overjoyed with gratitude about this development!  The freedom to roam – how divine!  So many days had passed since the cats  regained some freedom that I was beginning to think I would actually escape the wrath.  But in the back of my mind I knew that my big boy Poco would eventually punish me as he has punished me so many times over the last 11 years. 

Poco has always been a punishing bastard, usually punishing me for things like having the audacity to go on vacation, but this time, I think, for having the audacity to still have a dog in the house after his displeasure had clearly been made evident every single day for an entire year (today may we solemnly remember the fateful snowy drive to Pickering one year ago to adopt this cute yet psychopathic canine).  Poco’s chosen method of punishment is to cheerfully piss on something and create an unbearable cloud of stink.  And always something that specifically belongs to me so that there can be no question as to who the punishment is directed at.

Well after a few hours out this afternoon, we came home and settled into the basement.  Kev to his X-Box, I to my knitting (yes, I am a hundred years old) and there it was:  The tell-tale God awful fucking stench of cat piss.  Punished. 

Oh may we locate the source soon.

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