The Piss-bag's Dirty Secret

I awoke this morning to my brother's angry cry: "INEZ!" I got out of bed, turned into the living room when I realized that I had just stepped into the most massive puddle of dog pee this side of the Mississippi. I leaped about two feet into the living room to get out of the puddle, only to step into another ocean of piss on my hardwood floors.

Apparently, Pissy McPissalot also let 'er rip on my brother's bathroom mat. The mystery is: why didn't she cry if she had to go to the bathroom so badly. Usually around 7.30, Inez will wake up and start doing her morning march around the apartment. Her motto (loosely translated) is: "I have to pee! Look at me. I have to pee" or maybe if she is feeling more creative: "Hey Hey. Ho Ho. This urine in me's got to go!"

But there was no warning this morning. She just peed out about 20% of her water weight in the span of 20 minutes. And the last two puddles she did right in front of my brother. Maybe she's trying to prove something to us. Is she testing her boundaries? But I thought that she got over that toddler stage about a year ago.

To continue, I took her outside thinking that pee's evil companion is poo and she would probably have to do some of that too. But once we got outside, she just peed three more times.

Did Inez take a diuretic in her struggle to get down to her Bikini-weight? I guess I'll never know. But if I walk in to my apartment tonight and find another puddle...bitch gonna loose another eye!