Mom's got it all wrong. I KNOW how to use the potty, and I KNOW where. She just doesn't get it.
I want to be unrestricted.
I want the dew wet grass between my toes.
I want to be free of the stringy thing that tugs on my neck and messes my fur.
I want to sniff around freely until I find the perfect spot just for me.
Then, and only then, will I "Go Pee."
And since she isn't catching the clue, when I'm inside I'll continue to pick rug spots at random and she'll just have to chase after me with the clear stuff that smells like oranges. I like that smell better than the brand new carpet, anyway.
Now my bro Nero, he gets her "Good Boy" every time he steps foot on those white fuzzy things Mom put all over the house. I don't get it. How is that any different than carpet?
Sometimes I wonder if maybe she's changed her mind and decided that "No No, Bad Boy" was a more fitting name for me. I mean really, "Nero" sounds like a god or something and "Grigio" reminds me of that comedian who hollers "Po po Gree---G-O" all the time. There's nothing funny about me. I'm downright royal. And "No" sounds powerful. She even says it with conviction and not in that syrupy voice she uses to call me "Grigio."
Maybe I'll keep "No" for awhile...
But in the mean time, how do I tell her about the bathroom situation? I need free reign in my yard, pronto (<~ that's EYE-talian, a language I think she understands).