Wednesday, September 28, 2005

'Tis an ill wind that blows no good


Last night I was awakened at about 3:00 a.m. by a scent.
This was no ordinary funk, but a reeking, breath banishing, eye stinging miasma.
This stench was worst than bad cheese rotting inside a putrescent cod dipped in a septic tank and fermented under the backside of the Devil’s ball sack.
It smelled worse than a Peugeot full of Frenchmen.
As I struggled to open a window and determine from whence this odour eminated, I heard a flatulent Ppppfffffttt. My dog Bruiser hung his head in shame.
Immediately I rushed him to the back door so he could go in the back yard and release whatever it was that had crawled up his ass to die, but he refused to leave the house.
I’ve been feeding him the same kibble as always, so unless he’s been sneaking cabbage, bean and limburger burritos behind my back he must have developed some kind of digestive issues. I seriously considered duct taping his ass shut, but I settled for locking him in the bathroom. Another night of this and he’s off to the vet.

P.S. WARNING: Don't bother googling "Dog Fart"

2 Comments:

At 3:06 PM, Blogger Rebecca said...

Hi Bert,
Your dog looks very contented in that photo. What has he just finished?
HooRoo
Bec

 
At 11:44 PM, Blogger TC Byrd said...

I'm thinking humping Bert's leg. . . .

 

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