First let me say that as a rule, I prefer large dogs. I hardly know how to act around the toy breeds; I recently fostered a chihuahua puppy and was totally at a loss as to what do with him. My chief complaints surrounding little dogs is that they yap, they snap, and they break if you trip over them. They are also notoriously difficult to housetrain.
Unfortunately, as of late Louis is not proving much better in that last department, and it’s days like today that almost – almost – bring about fantasies of life lived amidst a pack of toy poodles and shih tzus instead of massive bully breeds. If you’ve never suffered the short-term housebreaking regressions of a sick dog, chances are good you will only be grossed out by my morning’s misadventures and wonder why the hell it’s even remotely worth detailing here. In truth, it probably isn’t…but then, if you’ve ever been there, you’ll understand.
But back to the reason I’m lamenting my choice of large breed dogs (Louis weighs 125 lbs, remember this).
I woke up at 4:30 this morning to the sound of water gushing from a faucet…except that that wasn’t it at all. Louis had apparently gone into the kitchen at some earlier point in the evening and chugged half the contents of a 10 qt water bucket (because standard water bowls are the equivalent to teacups over here, but watering troughs just don’t fit into my definition of home décor). He was at that moment doing what comes naturally to a dog after such zealous water consumption. And he was doing it beside my bed.
Now, we’ve gone through similar scenes (minus the massive intake of water, anyway) several times in the last few weeks while he gets over a UTI. So at this point, I’m not surprised by the flash flooding, and I’m not really even upset by it, partly because it’s 4:30 in the morning and I’m too zonked to be upset about anything, and partly because I know he really can’t help it. Obviously, if he were deviously wiggling his eyebrows or flicking me off while peeing in my bedroom, we’d have a problem. But as it stands, I can only sit by in resignation, my awe and horror growing at exactly the same rate as the puddle in front of me. All I can think is that at least this time he stayed in one spot instead of walking all around the house and spreading the misery, as he’s done before.
A quick trip outside (for even more peeing), and he was then confined to his crate so I could sleep for another hour before work.
When my alarm went off, I found him sitting sadly in the corner of his crate, with yet another Presa-sized puddle waiting to be cleaned. I locked him in the bathroom this time (where he unleashed yet another flood) while I dealt with his bedding, and then both dog and crate were piled into the backseat of my car and carted to work with me. I really just needed the crate, so I could hose it off, but since Louis takes the liberty of whittling on my doorframes if I leave him loose unattended (not to mention that I didn’t want to come home to a flooded apartment), he had to come too so I could keep an eye on him.
See? This is one of the disadvantages of having large dogs; when they get sick, it’s not a simple four-paper-towel problem. And we’ll not even consider the consequences of an upset tummy – suffice to say that some days, a super-sized digestive disagreement (especially when it’s credited to the dog food and thus affecting all of the pups) is not only the straw that breaks the camel’s back, it’s also the straw that pushes said camel into a psychotic break. But for fear that my dwelling on such horrors will bring them into occurrence, we’re not thinking about that right now.
So, to finish the original equation: 5qts of water + 1 dog = ¾ roll of paper towels, ½ bottle of Nature’s Miracle, and a big fat FAIL. And obviously, a predawn peeing of gargantuan proportions.
I’m sure you can see now why there are days when chihuahuas and yorkies might be preferable to pits, presas and shepherds.
