Yes.  I Did it.

Remember my revenge fantasy about peeing on the Family's suede sofa?  Well, I did it.  Not only did I do it…I saturated the thing over the course of two days.  Now let me just say that Owner Woman has a sense of smell that borders on circus-freaky.  If a mouse takes a dump in France, she smells it and starts hollering about how she can't take the stink and the anguish.  So imagine, if you will, the reaction when she caught wind of that ammonia soaked suede.

If her reaction had been video-taped, I'd be starring  in one of those pitiful abused animal infomercials with that rapidly-aging sister of Roseanne's.  For a fraction of a second, I basked in the glow of her seething.  Then I started to feel the pain.  You know how they say that it don't hurt when you hold a cat by the scruff of the neck?  That's a load of donkey dung right there.  Especially if the Owner Woman just got her ghetto nails did.  I avoided eye-contact while she read me the riot act on her way to the back door.

"What is WRONG with you, you stupid filthy animal!  Why do you pee?!  What's WRONG with you?  I've had it, Tess. I've had it.  You better find that thug son of yours and HOPE to god in the sky he can teach you some street slang so you don't get whipped and thrown in a drainage ditch somewhere."

Then I got tossed.  Actually "tossed" is too kind.  It was more like being drop-kicked by a steroid-filled high school football player who was on probation for failing Bible class.  I flew, people.

So anyway.  I snuck back inside today when Shorty left the door open and checked my email, peed in the guest room and whipped out this blog post here.  I'd better get myself back outside and down the street.  While indoors, I noticed a bottle of Midol on the counter…so now ain't the time to be messing around with Owner Woman.

I'm just tired.  So darn tired.  But let me just say this……