I came in through the back slider door, to find Mavis sitting on the couch petting the dog.
"Honey, why is Cleo all wet?" she asked.
I drew a blank. "I don't know."
"Well, it's all over her face...," she retorted as the dog licked hers.
We went upstairs to get ready for bed. She carried up the dog, and said, "Whatever it is, it smells weird and is kinda sticky."
I suddenly realized what it was, and was immediately horrified. It seemed too late to tell the truth, so I replied, "Uhhhh... maybe it's water from the kids' pool behind the shed."
About 10 minutes prior, I had been in the backyard with the dog. There's no easy way to say this... but I have this thing. A guy thing, a freedom thing, a whatever you want to call it "thing."
I like to pee in the backyard.
On this particular occasion, I was in a dark corner of the yard doing my business... hoping the dog was doing hers. I looked down, and realized she was next to me in her pounce position. She had never seen a pee stream before, and was ready to attack it. I shooed her away, and finished up. Afterwards, I went over to the shed to put some tires away. Meanwhile, Mavis had let the dog in. I didn't think anything of it.
By the time I realized what was on her, Mavis had been petting, playing with, and... (gulp)... kissing the dog. I really didn't know how she would react.
"I think I better give her a bath," she said.
While trying to sound nonchalant, I replied, "Ohhh.... yeah! That would probably be a good idea."
She washed her off, and got ready for bed. I slithered in with her, and laid awake for awhile. I really wanted to say something, but by that time it didn't seem to matter anymore. Regardless, I felt very guilty. VERY guilty. I have an insanely guilty conscience.
The next day at work, I told a few people about what had happened. It was a fairly even split over me being a Big Fat Liar (with pants on fire), and it being something that I should NEVER tell her. I was extremely torn.
A few nights later, Mavis and I were driving home from having dinner. As we pulled into our driveway, I blurted out "I THINK I PEED ON THE DOG!"
She stared at me blankly for a moment, and replied, ".....What?"
"The other night, when the dog was all wet... I'm pretty sure it's because she jumped into my pee."
This was possibly going to be a major turning point in our relationship. If she lashed out in anger, I knew I'd forever be perceived as the disguting lying backyard pee-er. If she forgave me, I knew I would be forever grateful and appreciative.
Another milli-second of silent eternity passed, when she suddenly burst out laughing.
I knew immediately I had made the right choice. In many ways.
"Why didn't you just tell me, silly?" she asked. She seemed to find it a little bit cute that I had been so tormented about the whole situation, with an emphasis on "little."
So, we both survived. From now on, I think I'll save the white lies for haircuts, apparel, and ugly babies. :)