Coco is not the brightest bulb of a dog, but she IS house-trained.
(And she possesses a bladder of steel. If she needed to, she could probably deal with a single outing every 14 hours or so.)
(Lest you be too quick to cheer at that, though . . . she can wait all day. BUT. She could go out, rid herself of all liquid, come back in, see Knobby coming in the door . . . and piddle on the floor. She’s an excitable piddler. I think of her every time I see one of those horrible “bladder mesh surgery” commercials. *Oy*)
All I’m trying to say here, is that with the exception of greeting newcomers at the door with a piddle puddle . . . at least she’s trustworthy inside.
So it was very strange, very out of the ordinary, that two days ago Coco had an extreme accident on the stairs. And I’m not talking a piddle puddle. It was one of those hold your nose and seriously contemplate if it might be easier to cut out that section of carpet and have it replaced.
(Actually, I will say — as I knelt there and scrubbed. And scrubbed. And scrubbed . . . I was incredibly cheered by the realization that this section of carpet WOULD be replaced soon . . . because it was part of the stairs that will be extended and brought down a different direction. “WELL THERE YOU GO!”)
(But of course, I still cleaned it. I have this child who scours the house for every messy opportunity, you know. Plus, we are not animals.)
“This child” knelt beside me on the stairs, actually. He brought me additional cleaning supplies when asked, and spent the rest of the time manning the trash can, asking “why did Coco poop on stairs?”, etc. He was VERY perplexed that any creature could have possibly done that, in the house, and on the carpet (Sweet THANK YOU shout-outs to his “Potty” book — “Where does puppy go potty? Oh. Puppy goes potty out in the yard.” — as well as God and My OCD for making him one extremely careful potty-trainer. We’ve had two totally dry nights, HOORAY!! The light at the end of nappy tunnel, I can see it.).
Well, you sort of run out of ways to answer the question . . . and by the 27th inquiry as to Coco’s motivation, I went from instructional tidbits to “ONCE AND DONE, OLIVER” to “Coco just went and lost her mind”.
It was then QUITE hilarious when O happened to shut a cabinet door too hard (I’ve always been hard on him about steering clear of cabinets and appliances, because I can’t cry over dents and scratches, you guys) — and as he looked at me in shock, he declared in a hilariously calmly tone while softly shaking his head: “I just LOST my MIND”.
It is now the new favorite for all oops.
Forget to put your lollipop stick in the trash can? “I just LOST my MIND.”
Bumped his car into the dining table? “I just LOST my MIND.”
He’s so funny, I JUST LOST MY MIND.