winter storm number nine and thoughts about where and how dogs pee.

i picked a really good year to have a renewed change of attitude towards winter.

but okay, snow . . . . . we get it.

this little number has been taped to my front door for a lot of days.

it reminds me that unless i want to go ice skating on my front stoop, i should take precaution and spend an extra minute or two negotiating (read: pole-vaulting) my way over the 3-inches of solid ice immediately outside the door.

i don’t look good in a neck brace. and yes, i’ve worn a neck brace before, so i know.

it’s days like these that i’m a little thankful i don’t have a pet. i can’t help but think about my friends and their fur children and wonder: wtf do you do when there’s a blizzard outside, a hundred feet of snow on the ground, no cleared sidewalks, and your pet has to peeeeeeeeeee???

i suppose this would be where those indoor fake grass patches come in handy. cleverly named “the potty patch.”

apparently you don’t have to change it but like every 300 uses. i’m sure that doesn’t inundate your world with all kinds of bacteria. not to mention a rancid fragrance circulating around the chosen corner of your home (don’t let the infomercials fool you. there is no such thing as “odor proof.”)

there’s no question that tier 3 is a real party in a plastic pan. walk.slowly.when.emptying. otherwise this as-seen-on-tv purchase will deem itself useless and you may as well just let your pup pee all over the floor like he or she really wanted to do in the first place.

OR (and this is by far my favorite option) you could put on your best snow suit, walk outdoors, try to maneuver this ever-so-graceful pose, and hope for the best:

[just pretend there is snow on the ground. use your imagination.]

or . . .

[and this is the least desirable option, but knock yourself out if you must]

you could run around the corner to the nearest bodega, grab a box of pampers, return home, crack a beer, sit on your couch, and wait patiently for the humane society to come knocking on your door.

do you have a cat? . . . . . . . . . well then hot damn you’re in luck.

a cat diaper with suspenders.

omfg.