My conversation with Twig this evening:
Me: Twig, this, uh, "problem" you have? I don't like it, and quite frankly I am getting sick of it.
Me: Don't act so surprised, Twig. This has been going on for a while. I've had it!
Me: Dammit, Twig!! Look at me when I'm talking to you!!!
Me: That's better. Now listen up! I curled up in a blanket this afternoon and it smelled super wonderful like Downy. It was awesome. And then I pulled it closer to my face, and guess what I smelled, Twig. Guess. Yeah, your nervous dog piss. At some point you got excited and had an "accident" on purpose on my fucking blanket. So, what do you suppose I should do about this other than wash the damn thing again? Huh? Why can't you answer me?!! Anyway, I think you got the point. You should be ashamed of yourself and learn to control this problem of yours better than you are. It's like you're not even trying. Sometimes...I think you do it just to get me mad. Bad dog.