Most dogs pee on trees. Sherman eats them.
Exhibit A: The flowering purple something-or-other bush in the backyard and the other lovely (but probably-not-flowering shrub), last September. Note the innocent appearance of the beast in the foreground.
I spent much of the winter looking forward to my trees and shrubs bursting forth with new life. I waited eagerly for the day when my gorgeous flowering foliage filled the backyard with perfume.
Exhibit B: My shrub as of today. It’s a sad, sad state of affairs. For the record, this is the healthier of the two.
I have warned him several times that he is at serious risks of getting splinters in his anus (pronounce it anne-ooos to be cool like me) but he doesn’t seem too worried.
Sherman has quite a few toys out back. He has a soccer ball and a purple rubber squirrel. He has a couple of tennis balls tethered together. He has a plastic ball with another little plastic ball rattling around inside it, designed to drive him crazy and buy me a little time where I don’t have to entertain his hairy butt. Sherman is the most spoiled puppa-doo on the block.
Lately, as soon as Sherman is let outside, he pees directly on his Wubba, the fancy pants red toy in the first photo. No matter where in the yard that toy is, Sherm locates it, positions himself with great finesse, and lets ‘er fly directly onto his most expensive outside toy. I don’t know how to take that.
Let me get this straight: this speckled dog, who is the proud owner of seventeen things to play with in the back yard, ignores sixteen of them, urinates on the seventeenth, and then keeps himself busy redoing the landscaping? I need to have a serious talk with that boy.
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