The Budster just came bounding into the room and began barking at me.
BARK! BARK!
“What is it?”
BARK! BARK! {wiggle} {wiggle}
“Well, let’s go then.”
BARK! BARK! and off he went.
I found the adorable black bush waiting for me at the front door, wiggling and squirming. The boy really had to go. I hurried putting on my coat, snapped the leash on him and as soon as I opened the door, he bolted out. We RAN across the yard to the tall grass where he settled into his commitment. When he had finished, we RAN back to the house. Once inside, he scrambled to find Mom and tell her all about it.
We rarely cut things that close but Buddy was good enough to alert me to the impending need or impending doom as it might have been. Mumford would like to give us notice and she often tries but by the time her kidneys get her brain’s attention and the brain talks to the feet, it’s usually too late. Sometimes she makes it and sometimes she doesn’t so we take her out regularly and hope that she takes the opportunity to avoid a future mishap. Still, she faithfully uses the piddle pads. Lots and lots of piddle pads. The national debt in piddle pads.
