Our new perro has only one flaw, as far as we know (it’s hard to tell after only 24 hours, but we’re pretty confident that we picked the best dog ever): she refuses to pee outside. She refuses to pee at all, really.
She’s been in our possession for over a day, now. Despite going outside about 20 times (I’m not exaggerating), including a lengthy hour-and-a-half walk this morning, she did not eliminate once. NOT ONE TIME. Coming from a long history of dogs that pee every time they hit the grass, we’re perplexed.
Our “dining room” (office, really) is the place to go, it seems, and only once a day. Thus, after last night’s performance (which we chalked up to nervousness) and a late afternoon attempt today, we are basically babysitting Shy Bladder.
The real concern here is that the dog is dreamy in pretty much every other respect. She responds immediately to voice commands. She tolerates the kennel without any whining. She walks well. She’s alert without being psycho-doggy. Guess it had to be something, huh? Where would the fun stories be if we had a totally perfect dog?
So, the actual story for the day: Nae (my friend who has now moved into our complex with her husband and dog) came over with her dreamy dog this evening. Both dogs got to romp a bit, then collapsed from exhaustion. We watched a movie. I had Sasha (aka: Paruresis) on a leash the whole time. Late in the visit, Nae suggested that we take the dogs out together. Victory!
I’m not sure what the appropriate social reaction is after joining a buddy in a good pee. For dogs, though, it’s cuddling.
Radio remote tomorrow plus (I’m sure) more dog stories.