So I have my dog buddy Gus that I check on every once in a while. His doggy mommy has to work some long shifts and I try to let him out of his kennel to do his dirty dog business.  A little while back she started asking me about his bowel habits because he had eaten some stuffed animals and she was concerned he was stopped up.


Well, the next time I visited I decided to take notes and report back to his overprotective owner.  Here's four updates from the "Dog Doo Diary" or "Pooch Poo Chronicles".  ***Careful, there are a few naughty words ahead!!!


Dear A,

Your dog took a giant poo. Any creature with a butthole or appetite even twice his size would have been impressed by the enormity. It was truly a spectacle and thing of wonder. It looks like someone built a house out of oversize Lincoln logs and then it melted, or maybe like someone soaked a box of cigars in vegetable oil and then crumbled them up. Even Gus looked more pleased with himself than embarrassed as he hunched over and give butt-birth to this pile of shit-sausages.

Oh, I know you probably don't believe me, so I left it there for you to look at. Don't worry, I put some flys in charge of looking after it.


Your friend in feces,




Dear A, 

Your dog was partially successful in his doggy business, but I don't think it was "the whole enchilada". In fact I think it was a couple enchiladas short of a combo plate. He was chasing the tennis balls I was throwing him when he immediately went into the power squat position. For a second there, I was unsure if he was going to take a dump or use his front paws to try and lift the lawn. It ended up being the former and it was instantly like when you pull the handle on the combo ice-cream machine at Golden Corral (the chocolate/vanilla swirl). We were both enjoying knowing the pressure to perform was off, when a white butterfly come by. It was fast and quick (the poo, not the butterfly) and then he took off. I tried to give him time to make the sequel but just like Game Of Thrones that second half was a long way away. Keep all of this in mind when you get home because he may have to pop out another Tyrion Lanister (a little shit) when you get home.


Dear A,

Gus delivered an epic performance today that had us shouting "Encore, Encore!". After ritually sacrificing a tennis ball to the god of bowels, he thrust his hips forward in a crisp fashion that would make Magic Mike himself proud. What followed next was at least the visual and weight equivalent of a theater size box of Milk Duds (if the Milk Duds were somehow bound together by a magical force). He then added a partial box of Raisinettes, before powering out a final "Dud". When it was all over, It was like four bars of bakers chocolate that had been melted in the microwave. There is just not much structural integrity to a pound mound of brown on a 95 degree day.

Today I thought I'd do you a favor and move the pile to a proper place but it had a very unexpected density. It was like an unworthy person trying to lift Thor's hammer, if Thor's hammer were all melty and had bonded with the grass.

Anyways, I hope this answers all your questions about Gus's day.



Dear A, 

I am sorry that I am late in posting this, but I was actually stunned into silence by the size of Gus's lawn grenades yesterday. Seriously, you might want to put a little salve on his exit door today after the monstrosity that he unleashed. In his defense, I was a bit of a Tardy McLaterson when I unleashed that hound. We played toss for no more than about five throws when he began what the Australians call "the thunder down under". It was so large and voluminous that when it hit the ground I felt a little vibration in my toes. I'm still waiting to see if showed up on the regional seismograph. He seriously could have filled up one of those pre-made Keebler graham cracker crust pie shells if he knew anything about aim. Always, I know I'm late posting this, but I just wanted you to know that it was Gus, and not a cow that left that little present for you in the backyard.

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