Pooping with Brian

I got my daughter a Dalmatian for her thirteenth birthday.  I do believe that was one of the biggest mistakes of my life.  For about a day and a half, Annie was sweet.  As soon as she got her bearings,she became a hyperactive, maniacal buzz saw, plundering and eviscerating everything in her path from shoes to the rag top on my husband’s MG, but that’s a story for another post.

At eighteen months, Annie’s hormones kicked in.  Overnight, she was transformed into a nasty-tempered, sullen,farting, bitch, such a blessed relief.  One day she was sitting between Bud and Mother farting up a storm.  Bud and Mother each kept looking accusingly at the other, thinking surely they would eventually do the decent thing and excuse themselves.

Deciding to take her show on the road one morning, Annie decided the best thing for her to do was to tunnel under our neighbor’s back fence to pay him a call.  Brian wasn’t in the yard, so she trotted into the house looking for him.  He was deep in thought, sitting on the toilet, enjoying some quality time.  Inspired by his wise example, Annie squatted and produced a fine example of her own.  Though I didn’t see the actual event, I did get to hear about it in great detail.