I've written about my neurotic dog, BoBo, before. He's really the Dustin Hoffman of the dog world.
Like most purebred poodles, he's exceedingly smart. Here is a classic pose for him. You can see that he's sure that with a little work he can crack the code to human speech and revolutionize the dog world forever.
Lately he's been out of control. In the last couple of weeks, he's peed on my gorgeous sofa, my bed (I had to throw out my mattress topper and buy a new one), and last night he peed on Sonosaur's bed pillow.
The moment I saw the latest pee attack (or should I say smelled?), I flipped out. "That's IT," I screeched. "I am taking his balls off tomorrow!"
I immediately researched different neutering clinics in the area, determined to be at their door first thing in the morning. However, my dad talked me out of it. "He might have a urinary tract infection, or diabetes," my dad suggested. "Take him to your vet's first."
So I did.
And BoBo's just fine. Well, physically he's fine. But the vet thinks he's experiencing separation anxiety since I'm gone more during the day than I used to be. So, the vet's put him on an anti-anxiety medication which may help in two weeks or more.
In the meantime, I'm going to be doing a lot of steam cleaning.