#026 In which our hero attempts several dog plans.

I once lived in a world of many smells. The smell of fresh baked bread, flowers, fresh cut grass... these were just a small sampling of the wonderful, intoxicating smells that were available to me. Sadly, I no longer live in that world. I now live in a world that is comprised entirely of one odor:

Dog piss.

Contrary to previous fretful predictions, our dog is not on death's door. It's more like he's in death's neighborhood, driving around trying to find the right house. After all, he is 12, which in human years is 321, so there are definitely more years behind him than before him.

The results of the doubled-ended scoping are that the dog has irritable bowel disease. I hadn't a clue that dogs could even get irritable bowels, but my past experienced scrubbing dog shit out of the carpet should have shed a clue.

So he's now on five or six different meds. One of these pills is a steroid (which presumably is to speed healing of his guts, not help with his bench press). One side effect of this steroid is that it makes the dog thirsty, so he's drinking water all the goddamn time, which drives my wife and I crazy.

TUCKER: Lap, lap, lap, lap, lap, lap, lap, lap, lap, lap, lap, lap, lap, lap, lap, lap, lap, lap, lap, lap, lap, lap, lap, lap, lap, lap, lap, lap, lap, lap, lap, lap, lap, lap, lap, lap, lap, lap, lap, lap, lap -

ME: Tucker, that's enough.

TUCKER: Lap, lap, lap, lap, lap, lap, lap, lap, lap, lap, lap, lap, lap, lap, lap, lap, lap, lap, lap, lap, lap, lap, lap, lap, lap, lap, lap, lap, lap, lap, lap, lap, lap, lap, lap, lap, lap -

ME: TUCKER! ENOUGH!

But, the more fearful of the side effects is what the vet called "loosening of the sphincter." Yep... he's drinking lots more water and is losing the ability to hold his water.

We first discovered this unfortunate duo of side effects when we came home and found a huge puddle on the living room carpet. Again, the dog is 12, and he's been a little incontinent for a couple of years now. He's actually on another drug that's supposed to help with this, but every now and again we'd find a little wet spot on the rug.

But this spot was more like someone dumped a pitcher of beer in the middle of the floor. Beer that reeked of dog piss. And, y'know, dog piss smells bad. I can't say as I've never gotten really up close to anything the dog has peed on, but when you have half a gallon soaked up in your rug - on a hot day - you suddenly get the full force of the stink. Hell smells like this.

So, we had to take drastic steps. It's not pretty, but we couldn't have the old man pissing up the house. He had to wear a diaper.

"Man pants"

These are commercially available canine diapers. An extra large adult incontinence pad fits inside. Yes, it's humiliating, and I'm sure the cats make fun of him... but it's better than the alternative. Or so we thought.

Turns out that these man pants, even though they are the biggest ones we can get, don't really fit him right. So the next day he had managed to soak his diaper and selected spots on the carpet.

The Scientist managed to jury-rig a solution of sorts - extending the coverage area. But, the asshole still managed to work the pad loose and rip it to shreds. So not only was the carpet wet, but so were his man pants AND there were bits of wet, stinking plastic all over the house. On to Plan B.

We have a little office in the back of the house. The Scientist bought these absorbent bed-wetter pads and spread them all over the floor. We then covered this with an old comforter, thinking that this dual-layer technology, working alongside the man pants, would absorb all the pee that the dumb dog could generate.

A side note: before Plan B went into affect, I rented a carpet clearer and scrubbed the dog smell out of the living room. In case you're keeping track:

• Number of times I've rented a carpet cleaner from age 0 to age 34: 0


• Number of times I've rented a carpet cleaner from age 34 to age 35: 6.
  

Needless to say, the canine urine machine soaked his pants, soaked the comforter, soaked the pads and still had enough juice left over to befoul the carpet. Walking into that little room was like walking into a 200-unit kennel. Oh, and he managed to chew a significant amount of wood off the door leading into the rest of the house. So, it was on to Plan C.

Our back yard is fenced, but we've learned the hard way that he can jump the fence. And we also know that he can slip his collar if he's determined enough. So I bought 20 feet of chain and a harness with visions of chaining him up outside where he can piss to his hearts content. I chained him for a couple of hours to see how he'd do. Somehow the beast managed to slip out of his harness. Plan C failed before it even got off the ground. Plan D anyone?

We put down a tarp, centered the dog's crate in the middle of it, covered the floor of the crate with bed-wetter sheets and the (washed) comforter. We resisted this approach before not because we didn't want to lock him in a cage (he was crate-trained and is actually pretty good about it), but because we knew that he'd be laying in his own piss for a couple of hours and we'd have to bathe him daily. But, this is what it's come down to - daily baths or daily carpet cleaning. And it's a lot easier to drag the dog outside and take the hose to him than the carpets.

And amazingly, Plan D worked! Well, at least once. I came home to find him quietly laying in his crate; he hadn't spilled his water (H2O, that is) all over the crate, and he didn't chew the comforter to bits. I took him outside, gave him a quick rising off with the hose, went on a walk and all was well.

But that was yesterday. Who knows what horrors await me today?