That's a direct quote from Hannah to me.
See, this morning around 3 AM, little Spence started whining in his crate. I assumed he wanted to sleep in my bed, since he is spoiled, but after springing him, he seemed uninterested in doing anything but pacing, so I put him back in the crate.
Where he whined.
For three more hours.
Meanwhile, I (being heartless) yelled at him repeatedly to just stop and go to sleep already. Because surely he was just whining because he was being a brat.
Around 6 AM, I'd had enough and took him to the bathroom so he could grab a drink, thinking that might settle him down enough so I could have a half hour more of sleep.
But as soon as I put him down on the linoleum, his ass literally (thanks, Chris Traeger*) exploded. Apparently you can fit 15 pounds of poop into a 10 pound bag.
(Sorry for the imagery there, but I believe in accuracy.) (Also, thank you, Spence, for not pooping on me while I carried you to the bathroom. I know you probably wanted to.)
He's off at the vet's now, getting checked out, and I feel pretty bad about making him wait those extra three hours to relieve himself.
But as Hannah said -- this is a mistake a pet owner only has to make once.
* For your viewing enjoyment (never fear, there is no poop):