What Happened to Harry

For some reason, I had it in my mind that we'd be entirely past the house-training phase when Weegie reached six months.

In fact, at six months she took a sharp, brief turn for the worse. Despite being perfectly capable of controlling herself until she could get outside, she performed a few last really choice acts of desecration.

Weegie in the leather chair
She can sit in the chair if Craig sits with her.

At the height of this phase, a friend visited from out of town. Luckily, this is a man who lives with eight dogs (he is married to one of those dedicated rescue people).

After dinner, we invited Harry to sit in the big leather chair, a piece of furniture that Weege is not allowed to use, much to her chagrin.

As Harry moved toward the chair, Weegie panicked, anxious because he was being invited to use the chair that she herself was not allowed to sit in.

It all happened so quickly. As Harry headed for the chair, Weegie scooted into it. Harry lined up to sit down on top of her as I yelled, “Weegie, get down from there!”

I watched in horror as Harry, not quite up to speed with what was going on, began to lower himself into the chair, and Weegie, quick as a blink, squatted and peed a puddle in the leather seat, then cleared out just as Harry landed.

It was still warm. Harry looked puzzled. Then he leaped up and whirled to see what he had sat in, and I could see a dark wet spot on the seat of his pants. The chair was dry; his pants had soaked it all up.

Weege had caromed off, been caught by Craig and crated in disgrace. I washed off the seat of the chair and gave Harry a towel, but of course his pants were wet and could not very well be dried with a towel.

Dog-guy that he is, and now you know why I said luckily, Harry was forgiving, but I was just hoping he'd packed a second pair of pants.