Hamlet’s Dog: On Being Stuck in the House For Too Long

To pee, or not to pee, that is the question—
Whether ’tis Nobler in the mind to suffer
The stings and tremors of a bursting Bladder,
Or take a Leak against a wall of curtains,
And by releasing ruin them? To go, to whiz—
At last; and by a whiz, to say we end
The tension, and the painful holding in
That flesh is heir to? ’Tis a urination
Devoutly to be wished. To go, to whiz,
To whiz, perchance to breathe; Aye, there’s the rub,
For in that whiz of going, what breaths may come,
When we have tinkled out this yellow oil,
Onto our paws. There’s the reason
That makes Intolerable so long waiting:
For who would bear the Pinch and Squeeze of need,
The Master’s delay, the Children’s indifference,
The pangs of despised piss, the locked doorway,
The ignorance of People, and the squirms
Of not draining it ignored by human rakes,
When he himself might this carpet mess make…