fugley
02-04-2004, 08:26 PM
Works IT Manager say Fugley I have to go away on a business trip to France. I'm leavin on Tuesday evening and will be back Weds very late.
Any chance you could pop round to my place and feed and clean up after my dog on Weds morning and after work the same day?? I have never been to his house or met his dog. Sure ..no bother I said.
I show up all braced for the task today at 6.30am.
I had been told that the dog would be in the kitchen - I was a bit curious that the dog did not bark as I went in the front door – cos dogs tend to do that!
I arrive at the kitchen door ..and still there is silence. I actually knocked on the kitchen door to see if there was any reaction...... No reaction.
I slowly open the door ......and there is the dog (some kind of bull terrier) sat in its basket. Head cocked to one side tail a waggin. Awwe nice doggy me thinks and says.
The door is still only 1/4 open and suddenly the smell hits me. I open the door fully and there across the kitchen floor is what can only be described as an ocean of piss with a massive regal armada of turds a sailin upon her.
Some were the size of fookin oil tankers others, were the size of aircraft carriers!!
The stink was fookin mind blowin!!!
Bear in mind I'm all dressed for work and I work in an office not for a sewerage company!!
Still I decide the job has to be done so I step into the yellowy green paddling pool and say doggy things to the doggy.
There is me steppin carefully through the waters carefully trying to navigate my passage through the currents - if you was standin on one of the turd shite ships you could think you were in a scene from Jason and the Argonauts I look like a nervous Neptune!!
Suddenly and entirely without warning the fookin growlin starts!.
A very deep growl from somewhere within the belly of the dog. I reply with nice but nervous doggy talk - who's a little baby den?? Poochy poochy poo!! and other such shit!- all to no avail.
I cannot pacify this beast. He obviously sees himself as the fookin rear admiral of his fleet of turds and starts growlin and a snapping! Real serious gnashin of teeth!!
Me is now in serious fright mode almost in danger of adding to his imperious poo fleet collection!
I then start to back away still remaining in the kitchen but all the time slidin around on the mess and cos I’m fixated with the satan dog beast fooker I begin, without realising it, to tread-in the doggy doo doos. Every thing got pretty smeared up and pasty with dogily productions!
I had promised to feed and clean up after the dog - fook dat!!!!
I did somat much better dan dat!
I left the guy a work of fookin art on his kitchen floor!!
Fugleys rendition of a butterfly foot mural!! I call it The Brown Admiral Butterfly.
And an added bonarse!! I marked in brown footpints a complete Tango dance routine all over his luxurious Axminster shag pile in the hall!!
He will be pleased!! :blink:
………….My day went downhill from there basically. :blink:
Any chance you could pop round to my place and feed and clean up after my dog on Weds morning and after work the same day?? I have never been to his house or met his dog. Sure ..no bother I said.
I show up all braced for the task today at 6.30am.
I had been told that the dog would be in the kitchen - I was a bit curious that the dog did not bark as I went in the front door – cos dogs tend to do that!
I arrive at the kitchen door ..and still there is silence. I actually knocked on the kitchen door to see if there was any reaction...... No reaction.
I slowly open the door ......and there is the dog (some kind of bull terrier) sat in its basket. Head cocked to one side tail a waggin. Awwe nice doggy me thinks and says.
The door is still only 1/4 open and suddenly the smell hits me. I open the door fully and there across the kitchen floor is what can only be described as an ocean of piss with a massive regal armada of turds a sailin upon her.
Some were the size of fookin oil tankers others, were the size of aircraft carriers!!
The stink was fookin mind blowin!!!
Bear in mind I'm all dressed for work and I work in an office not for a sewerage company!!
Still I decide the job has to be done so I step into the yellowy green paddling pool and say doggy things to the doggy.
There is me steppin carefully through the waters carefully trying to navigate my passage through the currents - if you was standin on one of the turd shite ships you could think you were in a scene from Jason and the Argonauts I look like a nervous Neptune!!
Suddenly and entirely without warning the fookin growlin starts!.
A very deep growl from somewhere within the belly of the dog. I reply with nice but nervous doggy talk - who's a little baby den?? Poochy poochy poo!! and other such shit!- all to no avail.
I cannot pacify this beast. He obviously sees himself as the fookin rear admiral of his fleet of turds and starts growlin and a snapping! Real serious gnashin of teeth!!
Me is now in serious fright mode almost in danger of adding to his imperious poo fleet collection!
I then start to back away still remaining in the kitchen but all the time slidin around on the mess and cos I’m fixated with the satan dog beast fooker I begin, without realising it, to tread-in the doggy doo doos. Every thing got pretty smeared up and pasty with dogily productions!
I had promised to feed and clean up after the dog - fook dat!!!!
I did somat much better dan dat!
I left the guy a work of fookin art on his kitchen floor!!
Fugleys rendition of a butterfly foot mural!! I call it The Brown Admiral Butterfly.
And an added bonarse!! I marked in brown footpints a complete Tango dance routine all over his luxurious Axminster shag pile in the hall!!
He will be pleased!! :blink:
………….My day went downhill from there basically. :blink: