Life in the Yard

Our wonderful little Royal Bahamiam Potcake puppy has yet to… offload his freight whilst leashed, so bagging his stool is strictly a home-based chore. The difficulty of this chore is compounded by his habit of walking as he rolls a nut log, resulting in not a pile of but kabobs, but a trail of fudge nuggets.

It may have been the fumes or decrease in blood flow to the brain due to bending over, but as I was doing my duty by bagging our lovely dog’s colon cannonballs the other day, the thoughts that formed in my mind were not of inventions that would capture poocheroo’s keester cakes before they had a chance to foul the fescue. No, they were more of a philosophical nature. 

  • The grogan that appears as a solid, easty-to-handle object is often soft and quaggy. It will not relinquish its post with ease and will often leave evidence of its occupation.
  • As you remove one instance of yard sausage, take care that you do not trod upon another.
  • Gathering loaves of brown bread is an odious task for certain. Often, though, the abhorrent the task, the greater the sense of satisfaction upon completion.
  • It is best to let mudslides dry before attempting to handle them.
  • While a scooper may spare you from the tactile experience, the brunt of the effluvium, and the close-up view of your pet’s latest meal, plastic bags are quicker and more effective at getting every bit of hell frosting.
  • A great deal of rain may do your job for you, but a lesser rainfall will turn easily-grasped butt nuggets into an impossible pile of Dinty Moore.
  • The time and effort you put into clearing brown mine fields is much less than what you would spend on cleaning lawn sausage from your footwear.

Hit me. I can take it.

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