Wednesday night at about 4:30, I smelled the most retched stink ever. I just knew my adorable Springer Spaniel had pooped in the bedroom. So, I quietly made my way around the room looking for the fecal matter. It turns out she just had gas. Really bad gas. (When I get older, I'm going to have an arsenal of stories that go nowhere.)
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2 comments:
So have you had a moment when Maddy did something really dumb and just looked at her nd said "DAAEERRRR" and hurt your vocal chords for old time sake? Just remember that a frying pan is not to be used on anyone or anything for that matter.
I wish I could blame my gas on a dog.. especially when I'm at work.
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