Tails of a Pisser

Excuse the language. I am the proud owner of a pisser (there is simply no cleaner word to describe it). What is a pisser, you ask? A pisser is a poorly trained Basset Hound. Why poorly trained, you say? Because she is a Basset Hound. That's right, I spend much of my time chasing the pisser out the door, barricading the steps so she cannot go on her "grass"(translation: carpet), and cleaning up the hair of her sister, "Shedder" (a Lab - need I say more). Without Pisser and Shedder, I could have a totally different house. But instead, I need warning when company is coming, so I can be sure the floors have been vacuumed for the fourth time of the day, and that I've diffused any accidents. Why do we keep Shedder (aka Cali) and Pisser (aka Katy) around? Because they introduced us - right out of a Disney movie (I thought Brian wasn't going to kiss me on our first date until Cali literally wrapped her leash around us). And because, despite the shedding and periodic peeing, they are incredibly sweet and loyal dogs. They were wonderful with my preemie, have never hurt either of my boys, and even though Shedder is now blind and arthritic, she is a puppy at heart and has not once bumped into my kids. The Pisser has hardly had any accidents since I've been at home more, which means she really does it out of love, right? And so it shall continue, until the sad, sad day when I may actually miss the mad cleaning. Rug Doctor, Bissell, and Oxy Clean will miss it too.