When we bought our first house in south Minneapolis we got a puppy and named him Jake. We didn't know it at the time but he was part Husky part Satan.
Beautiful blue eyes though. Isn't there a song about the devil having blue eyes, or is it a blue dress? Anyway, Jake was always full of surprises. This whole blog could be nothing but a list of the crap he wrecked. I can't actually remember a day in the two years we had him that he didn't at least attempt to destroy something. He ended up getting hit by a car one day. We were sad, for awhile.
Don't get me wrong, I love dogs. I'm a freak for dogs!
One day while Jake and I were walking he needed to pause to do some business. I'm not sure what he had eaten the day before, but it literally could have been anything from florescent light bulbs to candles. Whatever it was made the poo rather like butter cream frosting gone bad. When he was finished, he moved to scratch the ground with his back legs to cover it, in that half ass way that they do. He caught the pile with his foot and threw it onto a near-by parked car. A white car. He must have been aware of the severity of the pile or he liked my reaction because he kept doing it and didn't finish until he had flicked most of it. The car was spattered with blobs of poo and dirt with tufts of grass thrown in for flare. There was some left that had been smeared into the grass but not enough to bother picking up and there was no way I was going to stick around to clean the neighbors car. I was doubled over with laughter and barely made it home.
P.S. if that was your car, it wasn't a poo chucking vandal, it was my dog... and he didn't hate you.
No comments:
Post a Comment