I’m thirsty.
My bowl is empty and I’m not sure when my parents are planning to fill it up with some good old H two Oh goodness.
During times like these a dog has to take matters into his own paws. Most times I’ll hoist myself up near Lulu's water bowl and drink from it. Unfortunately today, it has her hair in it and I find that disgusting.
The second alternative is to go outside and look for a puddle or a container with Mother Nature’s rain water in it. Sadly, it’s been drier here than the South during prohibition.
Which leads me to my last alternative: the toilet bowl.
Some dogs will tell you they prefer drinking from it even over their own water bowl. But not me. When I drink from a commode, all I can think of is my old man’s ass hovering above it.
Alas, desperate times lead to desperate measures, and I know I’ll be forced to close my eyes, think good thoughts, and drink from the family urinal. Screams of disgust from my mother will fill the air as she realizes what I’m doing. Hey, I find it repulsive, too.
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