Helping redecorate the bathroom.
First off, let me draw your attention to the video above. This is Nanook, our newest family member, and Alaskan Malamute. Cute? Absolutely! Loves his cuddles? OMG does he! Pisses on our bed? Clears throat and says in a controlled voice still filled with love I might add - YES, HE DID!
Now do not get me wrong this is not an ongoing thing, this was a, whoops what have I just done, my owner is horrified and I think I might shit myself as I still can't get off the bed on my own. Let me tell you about Nanook and the morning I woke to the feeling of a cold spot by my side.
It was just like any other night, lights off, T.V off, the hubby stumbling up the stairs exhausted while I lock up the house. Why is it that a man can say "Bedtime" and up he gets, not a door locked, a window closed - nothing? But I digress. Back to Nanook and his bladder of freeness in the most inappropriate place.
While there is a designated area for the puppies to sleep, I do tend to feel a tad bit sorry for them as they paw pathetically and somewhat miserably from side to side, just on tenterhooks as they await eye contact. Let's be honest, once eye contact is made, it is game over, and they know it. Sometimes I think of "The Secret Life of Pets" and wonder if that is in fact what happens behind our backs. The sneaking around, the whispered conversations. Exactly what do they get up to when we are working? Those butt sniffing antics aren’t fooling me.
Without hesitating I move out of my comfy position to the groaning sound of “Stop moving, I have to be up in six hours.” All I can think of in that moment in time was, how interesting that conversation as about to get the moment both Nanook and William Wallace get into position on the once still mattress. The more they move looking for that comfortable spot, the more I am already regretting my weak tendencies. Finally – Stillness reigns down upon the bedroom, and a soft snoring comes from the man whose arm has made its way back to lay upon my left breast. (Hey, don't judge him, I have great boobs ) A deep satisfied breath, and I close my eyes. Hubby is sleeping, dogs are content, house is locked up and I can finally rest.
Fast forward 6 hours – “What the bloody hell is that?”
That ladies and gents is puppy bladder failure. That is our memory foam mattress, new white 100% cotton first time on the bed sheets drenched in pee. Obviously not the whole mattress, come on he is a puppy not a buffalo. My point being, at no time did he sit up, put his paw on me and say in his “The Secret Life of Pets” voice, “Hey lady wake up I gotta take a piss.” Oh no, there was no tossing and turning, there was just a “Yep, this will do nicely.”
In the meantime, the man of the house is once again stumbling around as he fights to wake up, I am shooing Nanook away in order to get him off the bed, grab the sheets, shout the location of a red tie, convince William Wallace that playing tug of war with the quilt isn’t exactly what I had in mind the moment I pulled it out from under him, and to my disgust having to jump onto said wet spot when my husband strolls back into the room. Not fast enough I might add.
“Whoa, what is that?”
“I have no idea.”
“No, seriously is that what I think it is?”
“I really don’t know.”
“Did you wet yourself?”
Yes, he actually asked me if I had been me who wet the bed. The more I insisted I wasn't the culprit all the while throwing our soft, loving, still learning the rules puppy under the bus, the man in my life refuses to believe me. SHOCKING!