After what felt like hours of being pestered and headbutted by Bhodi thismorning, I dragged myself downstairs to the realisation that I shouldn't have given the dogs a Christmas dinner last night, or at least I should have got up earlier. So fighting back the retching, I cleaned up the poo, then went and changed Bodhi's nappy. While trying to stop him wriggling and kicking and covering himself, myself and the sofa in poo, I was struck with the realisation that I'd been visited by Mr Hanky, the Christmas poo...
3 comments:
Nice. I feel your pain... my cat helped herself to Santa's glass of milk on Christmas Eve. I discovered her halfway through, and booted her into my bedroom for the rest of the night.
Her revenge was a puddle of squits on the duvet I'd only just bought, the bad bitch.
Did you try the grinning technique?
The grinning technique? As in baring my teeth at the dog, or does it involve alcohol?
Funny about the cat - I came in and found the cookie missing from Santa's tray - for a split second I took in the carrot and milk that were still there, and had an alarmed moment, had Santa actually come, and rejected the healthy stuff, just taken the cookie?
Bwaaaaaaa haaaaaaaaaa haaaaaaaaa!
My favourite guy of the season!
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