Yup, I have a dog. A westie, a west highland white terrier. His name is Leos and he's the coolest and cutest dog on the planet. Ok, I don't want to offend any other dog owners, who might be reading this, so I'll rephrase that: I think it's safe to say that he's the cutest dog on this blog. Better? Just look at his sweet and furry face above, looking all goofy and innocent. Yeah, well... He farts. A lot.
At first, I thought it was just a phase. I stupidly tried to convince myself that he had to eat something and that it would pass eventually. But it didn't. What passed was more and more gas coming out of his ass. And his farts are lethal! Sometimes they make my eyes sting. My eyeballs water up and it takes minutes before my vision comes back. Sometimes I think he's actually dead on the inside and the stench of his decaying carcass is oozing out of his butthole profusely. Sometimes he makes Hiroshima seem like daisy farts. After years of abuse and unsuccessfully seeking help at the Dog Farts Victims Anonymous, I've decided that I'm going to put a stop to this. That I'm going to make this dog stop farting and put a cork in it. Literally. Or at least make his gas smell nice. This is what I've done:
A) People say: "Hang a tree car air freshener on his tail," but that's for amateurs - amateur owners and amateur farters. I tried spraying his anus with Dior's Hypnotic Poison and his gas sure was poisonous then. I never thought anything coming from Dior could smell so foul. Besides, the perfume gave him a rash and an itchy butt does not a happy dog make so I decided to try something else.
B) My next solution was sticking an electrical plug-in air freshener up his heinie. I tried Ambi Pur and Air Wick and Glade, but nothing did the trick. Now he just chews all of our plugged in air fresheners like a maniac the moment he sees one, afraid that it's going up his ass when he won't be looking.
C) I've read somewhere on the Internet that dry food could be the cause so I tried switching his dry briquette for wet canned food. After eating dry briquette for years, he loved it. But his intestines didn't. It gave him terrible diarrhea so whenever he farted, a generous amount of extra smelly goo would shoot out of his rear end. Great, you could not only smell his farts, but see them too. This just goes to show that you shouldn't believe everything you read on the Internet.
D) Lastly, I decided to simply pluck 3 of his hairs every time he'd pass gas. Why 3? Because 3 is my lucky number, that's why. I was certain he'd catch on. After 6 days he looked like this:
Needless to say, he didn't catch on. It took forever for his fur to grow out what I find surprising, since stuff usually loves to sprout on a pile of manure, which he undoubtedly is, judging by the smell of it.
When all of these failed, I decided to just convince myself that I love him too much to kill him and write Santa for a gas mask so we could live happily ever after. I mean - look at this face!
|These last two photos are by Veronika and are two most gorgeous pictures I have of my fart-machine so thanks, V!|
No animal was hurt
during research for this post.
He's still alive and farting.