…And They Call It Puppy Love

He doesn’t mean to, but it happens. That's why it's called an accident. Sometimes it can't be helped. He’s embarrassed. He feels humiliated. He goes into a submissive state. He cringes his body, lowers his head and looks up with those big brown eyes. They are naturally watery. It often appears like he is crying as a single salty teardrop rolls toward a cold nose. He leaves out a small whimper, followed by a slight sigh. He waits for his scolding, but the scolding doesn’t come. He wet his bed. Again. That makes twice now this week. But just look at him. How can I possibly get angry? It’s his “I’m sorry” face. He shows it and I forgive. I forget. I cave.

He keeps me up past midnight biting my socks. My goal is to play with him to the point of puppy exhaustion. It’s then that he will collapse and the bedtime ritual begins. I finally wear him out. I look down to find a soft furry warm body lying palsied. A heavy head rests on my left foot. Induced in a deep sleep, the snoring begins. Now is the time I quietly scoop him up in my arms and carry him upstairs to be tucked into his bed. It’s what I imagine fatherhood must be like. It’s a small taste of it and I think I’ll enjoy it…minus the bed wetting of course.

It’s 2AM and he cries out. He needs to pee. Outside he goes to relieve himself. I attempt to tuck him back in bed, but he seems restless. For 20 minutes, he struggles to remain silent before crying out once more. Groggy and feeling irritated, I roll out of bed again and take him outside thinking he has to go #2. He sits in the backyard gazing up at me with a look that matches my exhausted expression. “Dude, poop. Do something. Please.” I don’t think he knows what I’m saying. So back to bed we go. Another wakeup call around 4AM wanting a drink of water and a final wakeup call around 5AM to let me know he wet his bed. Gee, could of it been the 4AM drink of water that caused the hour later bed wetting incident? Or should you of just peed a second time when we were outside for the poop mission that failed?

This time he doesn’t want to go back to sleep, despite the fact I was on my hands and knees cleaning his bed. The smell of urine is replaced by that fresh Downey scent. New blankets, a couple pats and 2 kisses later…and he still won’t go back in his crate! I know what I need to do. A good Dad always knows what it takes to sooth his young one. He likes his wrinkles rubbed. I take him on my lap, cuddle him up and work my magic. He goes into a trance when you moosh together his chubby cheeks. The brown eyes shut. The head gets heavy. Just a few minutes into the massage and he’s out like a light. Works everytime.

So why does a housebroken puppy wet his bed? I have a few theories, but I’m not completely sure. I just know that I have a lot of laundry to do now. I think my puppy needs rubber sheets. And I need more sleep. For such a little guy, he sure packs a lot of liquid! I’m looking on the bright side though. He will never shit his pants. Dogs don’t wear pants – duh. And even if he pissed and crapped himself this very second, I wouldn’t trade him in for the world. He’s my best buddy. My puppy. And I’m in love.