First off, the depressing stuff. My Doberman has a degenerative neurological disorder, which is somewhat similar to MS. She's slowly losing control over her back legs, which unfortunately, has also included her control over peeing and pooping. I have to keep her on a strict food schedule and monitor her back end closely in order to avoid little "presents" being littered throughout my parents' house. Poor Maia, she has no idea that she has to poop until she is literally in the process of pooping. During the last month, this has extended to peeing as well. She's not in any pain and she's still very much the same personality-wise. However, given that she's slowly having more and more trouble standing up, our time together is coming to a close.
What this means in terms of the practical day-to-day, is that I am constantly changing pee-soaked blankets off of her various sleeping places and monitoring her back end to see if there is a "load" waiting to be dumped. I'm also constantly sweeping, cleaning up messes, and otherwise trying to keep my living space from being totally unhygienic. Sometimes I feel more successful in that arena than others.
Tuesday night, I came to believe that my cat Gabi and I had a misunderstanding. I thought that she should pee in the litterbox, and based on the fact that I caught her peeing on the bathroom rug, she clearly had a different understanding of the situation. I yelled at her and swatted her and then chased her out of the bathroom. I then took the bathroom rugs (which had been peed on multiple times) into the house for my 2nd or 3rd load of pee-soaked laundry of the week. When I came back, I discovered that Gabi had peed directly on the bathroom floor again in my absence. And then I realized the true nature of our misunderstanding. The poor thing had blood in her urine from a UTI. So the peeing in the bathroom was an effort to let me know that something is wrong. Now, I have no rugs and just a towel on the bathroom floor because until her UTI improves, she's still protesting her discomfort to me outside of the litterbox.
So that straightened out, I took my two dogs out for a game of "Maia, you have to pee. Go pee. Maia, go on." Both dogs stopped for a nice long drink from the fountain (reloading), and then Maia nicely went out to do some business. Neo hung out next to me getting some pets, and then promptly threw up because he'd drank too much water too quickly.
At that point, I was just kinda done with animal fluids for the evening. I really love and enjoy having all of my pets, but man, during weeks like this one, 5 really starts to feel like way too many. I wish I could just toilet train the lot of them! : )