What is "outside", really?

In twenty-four hours, I have gone from being a happily married mother of one with two dogs, a 2400 sq. foot house and a yard, to a seperated (single) mother of one with two dogs, a 745 sq. foot apartment and a patio.

My dogs refuse to do their business on a leash. I've tried fighting the battle and have admitted defeat. For their entire lives, they've just had a door opened and grass awaiting them to do their business...until this morning.

My solution to my fenced in patio and dogs who refuse to potty on leashes was puppy training pads.

So, when Silas awakened me at 5 this morning, I asked the dogs the same question I ask every morning, "Do you need to go outside?"

They did their excited little dance, and I opened up my back patio and set down puppy pads and then presented it to them as "outside."

I let them out, closed the door, made a bottle, gave it to Silas, and went back to check on the dogs.

The puppy pads were decidedly dry. The whole patio also decidedly dry.

Well, I thought, maybe if I stand out here and encourage them. So, I stood outside for fifteen minutes and said "potty" over and over while pointing to the pads (while thanking God that most of my neighbors must be asleep at this ridiculous hour because I must look as insane as I feel).

Penny and Heidi would respond by walking to the fence that surrounds the patio and sniffing where they could SMELL the grass and then look at me as if to say, "For God sakes, woman, YES we need to go potty, now let us OUTSIDE."

It's almost 6, and we're still at an impasse.

That "it's five o'clock somewhere" cliche is starting to make a whole lot of sense to me right about now.