Let me start with a confession: I love my dog.

She is four pounds of silky hair, big opinions, and selective bladder control. She is Mommy’s Little Princess. She is Daddy’s… ongoing science experiment.

Her name is Lexi, and at some point—without discussion, warning, or remorse—she decided our carpeted stairs were her personal restroom.

Not the hardwood. Not the tile. The stairs. Every. Single. Time.

We Tried Everything (And I Mean Everything)

If there is a dog potty-training method, we tried it.

• Potty pads (ignored)
• Crate training (emotionally rejected)
• Going outside every 45 minutes (laughed at)
• Professional enzyme cleaners (betrayal—more on that below)

Eventually the smell crossed an important threshold: the moment when you don’t really smell it anymore, but you’re pretty sure other people do.

The Steam Cleaner Era (aka: Rock Bottom)

At some point I decided the answer was technology. So I bought a steam cleaner.

Not rented. Bought.

I steamed those stairs every single day like I was running a luxury carpet detox spa. Morning steam. Evening steam. Sometimes both. If Lexi even looked at the stairs wrong, out came the steamer.

Did it help? For about 20 minutes. Then the smell came back—stronger, more confident— like it had learned my schedule.

The Enzyme Cleaners That Made Everything Worse

Yes—I used enzyme cleaners. Multiple brands. Multiple times.

And here’s the part no one warns you about: they made it worse.

At first it smelled “clean.” Then it smelled like humid dog pee. Then it smelled like warm, activated dog pee.

Apparently enzymes combined with moisture and old urine deposits can create odors I did not consent to. At this point the stairs weren’t just embarrassing— they were hostile.

The Physics-Defying Bladder of a 4-Pound Dog

How can a four-pound dog produce this much pee?

Lexi appears to be 90% urine by volume. This dog is smaller than a loaf of bread, yet she’s generating output that suggests a hidden internal reservoir. A bladder connected to another dimension. A tiny portal to Niagara Falls.

I’ve personally produced less liquid after a long road trip and three coffees. At this point I stopped blaming the dog and started blaming physics.

Mock Diagram: Lexi’s Internal Pee Reservoir (Artist Rendering – Not to Scale)

The Desperation Experiment

I was one bad day away from ripping out the carpet entirely when I had a ridiculous thought:

What if I treated the carpet like a holding tank?

1. Pour: Two scoops into hot water using a funnel.
2. Shake: Thoroughly.
3. Spray: Until fully saturated.

The Result: Lexi Disappeared

The smell was gone. Not masked. Not “better.” Gone.

Even better? Lexi stopped peeing on the stairs. She sniffed once and decided: “Absolutely not. This place has been spiritually cleansed.”