I was asleep; dreaming sweet dreams filled with candy canes, flowers, and Shemar Moore. It was one of those dreams that you hope for every night before you fall asleep. I was blissfully unaware in dreamland. Until I heard something.
I knew instantly what it was and flew out of bed to find the source. Sure enough as I walk into the hall I stepped in it, slipped and fell in it.
As if that weren't bad enough, I still heard it. I got up, determined to find whoever did this and sure enough, as soon as I entered the study, I found it. Roscoe, my eight month Golden Retriever was peeing on my futon.
He didn't just pee on my futon. He peed in the hallway, in the living room, and on my couch. Where did he even keep that much pee? We were just out at midnight.
So why am I up at three in the morning? Because I have the lucky job of cleaning up all of that pee, all by myself. And then taking a shower.
I am officially a cat person.