Yesterday I arrive home to discover a new dog in our midst. Kelly and I are dog sitting a bulldog she once owned named Tank. He's an adorable pooch with an attentive personality and a sweet disposition. He doesn't seem to play that well with other dogs though, but he hasn't been too nasty to ours.
I like bulldogs, so it works for me. I think they're cute and they make funny sounds while in slumber, but there's one thing this Tank has that can and will drive me crazy. The dog has some terrible gas.
I'm not talking typical dog farts that only give a wrinkle in the nose in disgust. I'm talking about clearing the room, the neighborhood, or hell the whole town. I was in the shower this morning, which is laden with many a fragrant product, when I catch a wiff of Tank's noxious ass that almost made me pass out.
I think the Kaiser used bulldogs on the Western Front.
We're watching him until Friday, that is if our place doesn't become a threat to human health and the authorities don't send in their hazmat suit wearing folk for decontamination.
"Bulldogs have been known to fall on their swords when confronted by my superior tenacity." -Margaret Halsey