This is a tale of Botty Bombs, of Following Through – of, not to put too fine a point upon it, Piles of Poo! Just warning you lest you are of a delicate disposition!
My beloved, fifteen year old border collie, Jumble, has, in recent months, become a tad forgetful concerning the difference between grass and, say, bedding, carpeting and kitchen flooring, when it comes to the Dung Depositing skills at which he is an adept, nay bordering on a genius!
He has also become a genius at causing the maximum social embarrassment to his owner (me) via a strategy of Upping the Faecal Ante whenever I have company!
This morning was absolutely typical. I flopped out of my Fartsack at nine of the morning and wandered downstairs, admiring the play of sun upon the walls and the lovely rainbows thrown by various adroitly-placed crystals; but, as I opened…
View original post 453 more words