Poop and Puppies.

November 15, 2012

The other morning, I hustled out the front door, hurrying to get to a meeting. Although I am forever serially early, it was a rare day when I had not a minute to spare.

Of course, this meant there would be a pack of SEVEN filthy (and I mean, I caught fourteen diseases just looking at them) stray dogs that had squeezed through the bars of my gate, dragging in a bag of somebody else’s trash, which they had conveniently torn to shreds and scattered all over my driveway in the most appetizing of ways.

Gag me.

I ran back into the house, raced down the hallway, and snatched the broom out of my kitchen. I charged back out front and commenced screaming like a banshee, swinging the broom wildly to shoo off the dirty vermin, and trying not to get any closer than necessary. I also feared that the dogs might run the opposite way and dash into the house, but thankfully that complication was avoided.

Though one dumb dog did try to come back in and snatch a snack for the road, but then he saw the look on my face (and the imposingly raised arm), thought better of it and slunk away. Hmph.

Surveying the buffet of leftovers I now had the privilege of collecting, I observed with disgust that the delectable selection included clumps of hair, chicken bones, rotten apple cores, and POOPED SMEARED TOILET PAPER. (By the way, why were these in the same trash bag??)

Life abroad…

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