Me: I smell cat pee.

IZ: No, you smell the dog.

Me: Put your nose RIGHT THERE. (me pointing to a spot on the futon) That’s cat pee.

IZ: That’s dog.

This conversation played out over and over last week. By Friday, I was so convinced I smelled cat pee “RIGHT THERE” that in a small rage, I flipped the futon over all by myself; but not before I had emptied half a bottle of Febreeze “RIGHT THERE.”

I have to tell you, I’ve been a bit offended by the repetition of this conversation and its implication. (This is part where I tell you more about my dog’s elimination practices than you want to know. No, you may not SKIM, Mary!) I’ll have you know, my Miss Sophie has a very distinct way of telling you she needs outside. She “looks” at you. It’s sophisticated, really. But then, that’s my dog. In her mind, she’s making eye-contact. And if she jumps down from her bed and makes eye-contact, you only have to say, “Want to go outside, Soph?” for her to spin around in circles and head for the door. This is an elegant solution and I’m proud of my dog for her ingenuity.

The problem arises when YOU don’t make eye-contact and she does. Like, say, you’re in the laundry room, head buried in the dryer. Can she help it that you didn’t see her making eye-contact? Or when you’re asleep and she’s boring holes into your back. Still, NOT HER FAULT. Ahem. So, sometimes, the eye-contact method doesn’t work out and I look up to puddles. But for the most part, the dog and I are in sync. And the one thing she and I both agree on is that her pee doesn’t smell like the stench emanating from “RIGHT THERE.” We are in agreement: IZ is nuts.

Saturday dawned at noon and as I’m sitting in my pj’s I noticed it again. I smell cat pee. RIGHT THERE. Which was odd, because only yesterday my flipping of the futon and baptizing with febreeze had made a very clear dent in the assault on my nose. But then, then it happened.

IZ: There is a wet spot. RIGHT THERE. It’s, it’s, it’s DOG!

ME: Walter Tango Foxtrot!

IZ: It’s not dog?

Me: NO! It’s not dog. It’s a wet spot. And it’s CAT PEE. YOUR CAT’S PEE. MY. DOG. DOESN’T. PEE. RIGHT. THERE.


That prompted a quick check of the cat’s liter box. Imagine. A box full of cat poop, but no pee. Why? Because his cat has been peeing “RIGHT THERE” for a week. And he’s been blaming it on my dog, for a week. And all I have to say is:

Walter Tango Foxtrot