When I decided to adopt a cat, I figured it would take her a while to get the knack of the whole litter box thing. I was prepared for ugly accidents.
Nope, she had that down from the start. She got it without a single glitch. Her main gripe was that she wanted total privacy and when you are a feline, that is just not possible. Someone, at some point has to clean up the stinking (and I do mean STINKING) litter box. She hated that. She would sit on a perch somewhere in the room glowering at me, seething with rage that I was cleaning up her mess.
She was such a bitch.
Anyway, I have a point here, so I should get back to it.
When I adopted the Archie the Wonder Dog, I knew he would have a harder time with the whole housebreaking thing.
I did not realize what an arduous journey it would be.
When he was a tiny puppy, he would sleep in bed with me.
That is, he slept in bed with me until the night I woke up in a pool of warm puppy urine.
The next day, I bought a crate.
Nobody pees in my bed but me.
Wait, that didn't come out right.
Back when Archie was a puppy, I worked for the loathsome Mr. Boss. Since his dogs were in the office each day, Archie came to work with me most days. All the better to be hypervigilant and housebreak a puppy, right?
Almost every single day he would leave a steaming pile of puppy poo on Mr. Boss' office rug. He was even cheeky enough to stand in full view of the loathsome Mr. Boss, crouch and squeeze out a tiny puppy loaf right on the spot. The same spot each day.
He was trying to tell me something. I think he was trying to tell Mr. Boss a little something too!
I am telling you all of this because I have a patchy, at best, record of toilet training other beings. It is just not something I excel at, what can I say? I have just always kind of figured pressuring Grand Master H was fruitless. He does things when he is damn good and ready and not one second sooner.
Fast forward to 2010. Grand Master H is tougher and more stubborn than Archie. He is, much to my chagrine, is hurtling toward 5 years of age and thus far feels using the toilet, while sanitary, is beneath him.
This has led to dozens of hilarious and disgusting stories that I have not shared here. For example, the day he came running downstairs and said the following, "Mommy, I need a napkin FAST! There is poop on the floor! You get the big one and I will get all the little ones."
I went to college.
Master H does not like to be interrupted, you see. He is busy and important and has many many things to attend to and using the toilet is not among them.
Well, in the last two weeks, the heavens have opened up and we are almost exclusively living a Boxer Brief kind of life around here.
I can't believe it either!
The only snag in the nearly perfect plan? Yeah, His Lordship refuses to poo in the loo. The splashing scares him.
So, onward and upward.
We keep fighting the good fight. I relented and allowed a diaper this morning. Chiefly because he hadn't pooped in THREE DAYS!!!! I was getting scared. That is some willpower people. This kid is a SERIOUS negotiator. You want to talk about a nuclear option? He's got one.
After a little while, he finally went in the bathroom. When I went in to make sure he was okay, he was standing in there looking pale, but relieved.
Yeah, that would be because he dropped the biggest turd I have ever laid eyes on. I did not think such a small human was capable to such a feat. Seriously, this was something you would see on the Elephantcam!
Seriously, I am sorry to be so graphic, but isn't that what blogs are for? I mean really.
I was speechless, and that does not happen often.
So, Grand Master H is back in Boxer Briefs and he is about 15 pounds lighter.
It is truly a magical season, y'all!