To Pee or Not To Pee - housebreaking a puppy the Bernie style.

One may ask, to pee or not to pee? Or go further and question where the pee should happen, but there really should be no question. It's simple. When in doubt, let it out. That's my philosophy.

My humans seem to celebrate the whole "relieving of oneself". They exercise all sorts of pomp and circumstance by laying the floor with soft white pads to catch it all. They try to coax the act with, "Go potty, go potty" and once complete, celebrate with all forms of jubilation by calling each other and singing, "Good potty! What a good potty!"

It's easy for me; I suppose I was made for this, a natural, if you will. I perform like the dog I was born to be.

Upon fulfilling my duty, they replace the pads with a new set of blank sheets, awaiting my next delivery. All day long, I repeat the magic and decorate the pads with my unique flair. They really can't get enough!

Why limit myself? The creative juices need to flow, so to speak.

I enter another room and locate a larger "canvas." This one is not white; it has an ornate design with a plusher finish. I think it will do just fine; all it needs is to be "Bernified", and "voila" - a masterpiece! I believe this could quite possibly be my best work yet.

I hear thundering footsteps from the other room, "AAHH! What are you doing? Bad doggy, no! No, Bernie!" they shriek.

The next thing I know, I'm airlifted back to the plain white pad.

I don't want to work on the basic pad, I have tasted the delights of using mediums like, "rug". I have more to offer the world. I shall not level down. Onwards and upwards, always!

I hear them mutter amongst themselves, "I guess he's done, nothing left".

Oh no, how wrong they are. There's plenty in the reserve. As they turn, I head back to where I was rudely interrupted and finish the job.

"Nooooo!!!"

I am put in the crate. I don't understand these people. I sense they don't like my work.

You know, there's no accounting for taste.