I came home from work today and walked into the kitchen and noticed some brown streaky stains on the tile. Being the neat freak that I am I bent over to have a better look, that's when it hit me. Mud doesn't have hair in it. Upon closer inspection in became readily apparent that it was shit, not just any shit but nasty brown shit. Now where could this have come from? Who would track shit across my tile? My first thought was my dog. He wasn't supposed to be in the house but maybe he got in, had some shit on his paw from the backyard and tracked it across the floor. So I go looking, around the corner in the laundry room is more shit, on the floor, on the wall, on my laundry basket. I follow it back towards my office, more shit stains on the floor. As I reach the office I can see shit on the white carpet leading back towards my desk. As I bend down I hear my dog whimpering. This is getting really weird now. He's under the desk and wont come out. I have to pull him out by his collar. As he is coming out the smell hits me. Shit, nasty I ate taco bell kind of shit, and he's covered in it!@ What the fuck is going on here? How could he have been covered in shit? How could he cover himself in shit? Rolled in it? Fell in it? What. So I'm pissed. Washing the dog, washing the house, everything.
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An hour later I'm sitting on the couch with my newly washed and obviously relived dog and I see a note on the coffee table. It's from Julie, my girlfriend.
It reads. Kevin, went out back to see what the dog was barking at, stepped in his shit on the side walk and slipped and fell in it. I was so mad I went in the house, shit in a paper plate, and rubbed it all over him. Have fun cleaning it up fucker. You and your fucking dog can go to hell.
this is in or around Gardena