After I had posted the first Dear Doggie Diary post, people said I should raid his diary again so I am doing just that. My brother, though, asked why I was reading his diary in the first place, but hey, my father did it to me and I'm doing it to him - it seems only fair. But I have to mention something else too. Please, don't think I'm an evil bitch who's torturing her dog by making him wear her stuff and stand still to pose for pictures. Those are actually his glasses and the whole 'photo-session' lasted less than 5 minutes because he lost all interest and will to cooperate EVEN THOUGH he's well compensated for his services - for every picture I post he gets 2 full body massages and a treat. So, now that I've made this clear, here's his diary entry from yesterday. Enjoy. I know it was a SHIT-load of fun for me.
Yup. A dump. In the living room. It wasn't intentional, but hey, shit happens. Even to the best of us. No shit, right? Yes shit. And lots of it. Soon after we came back from the morning walk, I felt queasy and I tried holding it for a while but I couldn't. 3 seconds after the shit went down, literally, she came running to the living room. I don't know how she always knows when I'm up to something, it's like she has a sixth sense and zero tolerance for
bulldogshit. You know that movie with Bruce Willis, The Sixth Sense? They should remake it with her in the leading role - The Shith Sense.
Anyhow, I haven't seen her this mad since I broke her CD player years ago. Which, again, wasn't my fault! It's not my responsibility to mind where the cables are, the shit just appeared out of nowhere while I was running around the table and those stupid cables got tangled in my paws and then everything came crashing down around me. If anything, SHE owes ME an apology, I got scared as a motherfucker. Well, not that scared, I ain't scared of anything! But back to my shit.
After she cleaned everything, she went back to her room and started to hit on that stupid long plastic thing and stare at that stupid flat glowing thing again. Boooooring. What did I do? I started to feel queasy again, what else. And this time, I felt a real shitstorm coming. Again, she sensed something was about to happen with her mad skills of dark sorcery and grabbed me and ran outside with me. And it was a good thing she did. As soon as my paws hit the ground, a brown geyser shot out of my ass. Luckily, I was outside. Luckily for her, ho ho. I'm a dog, I don't know how to clean, I'm not as intelligent as almighty humans are, woof woof. Suckers.
Now she got really pissed. She kept saying: "That's because you eat shit outside, you stupid dog!! Why do you think I keep telling you not to eat garbage you find on the ground?!" But I don't think it has anything to do with that. I think she's just jealous because I always find the best stuff before she does and I eat it and she can't. Me eating dead birds and having an explosive diarrhea are two completely separate, unrelated things. I probably got diarrhea because of water. Yeah, that's it. She should clean my water bowl more often. Not yell at me. That's abuse. That's a textbook case of domestic abuse. Fuck.
Anyhow, after that I pooped a couple more times, mostly outside. It was quite a day, really. Pretty eventful. It actually felt good to shit that much, I felt invigorated, like I'm the lord, the shit lord. You know that movie, The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers? They should remake that with me in the leading role - The Lord of the Shit: The Two Piles. Ha. More like 27 piles. And one ginormous sea.
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