Soon after Andy moved in condo, I found out how much water he drinks. He drank so much that I was worried he had diabetes or something. Fortunately, he never had diabetes. Unfortunately, his compulsion was all mental. There wasn’t a damned thing I could about it.
Every time he passed by the water bowl, he had to take a drink. Often, he would not stop until the water was all gone. If he was still thirsty, he would go drink out of the toilet. This bad habit gave me strong incentive to clean my bathrooms.
If the water bowl was empty, Andy occasionally pitched a baby-boy fit. He would nudge the bowl against the wall. Sometimes he would lift one end of the bowl and let it abrubtly drop. It sounded like a bell ringing. Andy would then glare over at me like “Yo, do something.”
I wanted to quantify the amount Andy drank when I set up an experiment. I measured a half-gallon of water in a bowl and let him drink. It took him less than an hour to finish it. About an hour later, he had to hurry out. He had to go so badly that his legs were trembling. It took him a couple of minutes to empty his bladder.
When the vet asked why I did that, I responded that when he wanted to know how much Andy drank, I wanted to be able to give him some objective data. I didn’t want to simply say to him “He drinks a lot and all the time.”
Andy had nothing physiologically wrong with him.
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