So there was this one time, I knew I picked the right dog. (Yes, this post is also doubling as an I got a dog announcement. Moving on.) Dale was in the back with Samson taking care of his nightly ninja-poop (he wont do the doody-deed unless hes alone, facing the corner of the fence, under cover of darkness) when the evil neighbors dogs began their nightly chorus of snarling and growling and trying to knock the fence down. Normally, Samson responds by staring melting death rays back at them, or alternatively alerting the entire neighborhood to his displeasure with his thunderous boom of a woof, but tonight was different. Picture it: dogs started growling, and Dale approached with vinegar-spray bottle at the ready. But Samson flashed Dale a look of, Dont worry boss, I got this, walked with great dignity up to the fence, lifted his leg and directed a powerful jet of urine directly through a previously-undetected hole in the fence, right into the barking dogs open (and completely unsuspecting) maw. How do we know it was actually a direct hit? Suffice it to say that we now know what sound a dog makes when you pour water down its throat mid-bark. Typed letters do not, nay, cannot convey the glorious sound of a spluttering, outraged, half-submerged cry of a canine who totally had this treatment coming. To boot, Samson gleefully pranced, skipped.... no, strutted away, but not before turning his backside to the offending miscreant and deliberately wiping his paws back at him, not unlike a cat does after making a litter-box deposit. Friends, Ive been having second/third/twenty-seventh thoughts, but this seals it. I think its going to work out. Samson, welcome to the family.
Posted on: Sat, 18 Oct 2014 03:41:48 +0000
Trending Topics
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015