Every day of my life in the dollhouse, I’m in grave danger of gas poisoning. The gas that threatens me doesn’t leak from the stove or billow near the floor in the furnace room. It doesn’t seep from the hot water tank and it isn’t even generated when I mix poorly labelled cleaning supplies.
Let it be known that the gas that will probably kill me one of these days comes from him:
Sherman is the stankiest dog I’ve ever known. He farts when he’s happy. He farts when he’s sad. He farts when there’s a knock at the door. He farts every time a commercial for a product to eat, drive, or use to clean something shows up on television. The sheer volume and frequency of his farts are, I’m sure, contributing to global warming in Alberta. The dollhouse has a carbon footprint big enough to build a koi pond in.
My dog is in excellent health. He gets regular exercise and eats only things meant for canines. There is no pinpointable reason for his incredible flatulence, but then again, there is no reason for Celine Dion either and she persists just as tenaciously. Crud.
While he was cooking breakfast on Christmas morning, The Electrician’s dad tossed Sherman a couple rounds of garlic sausage. I flapped my arms in panic and protested, but he insisted it wouldn’t be a big deal. Clearly, he had not spent enough time with Sherman and had no idea of the evil he was brewing. On the way back to my place, the inside of my SUV stunk so badly that my eyes watered one of my contacts right out onto my cheek. There is nothing worse than garlic dog fart. Nothing.
My speckled one likes to watch television in the living room in the evenings. It seems that he saves the majority of his farts for tv watching/test scoring/blog writing couch time. I think my couch has changed colour over the course of this dog’s lifetime, and I’m worried about the finish on my hardwood floor.
It generally goes like this: Sherman realizes something is rumbling in his lower intestine and the look on his face betrays his anticipation.
He then comes closer, so that he can share his, ahem, love with me.
Sometimes it takes a while, and I start to hope that we may have a silent night after all. Just when I think I can finally relax, it happens:
There are days when the propulsion is enough to lift him off the ground. You should be glad the camera doesn’t also capture scent. I am seriously considering wearing Vicks Vapo-rub around the house like those folks do who work in the morgue. I’m pretty sure the pup is dead on the inside, so it makes sense.
Wait! Hold up! This isn’t an entirely bleak, stinky scenario. Maybe I can farm Sherman out to earn his keep. Perhaps speckled pup farts, like the power of steam many decades ago, could be harnessed to improve life for people (and make me some money).
I thought of some jobs Sherman could apply for to bring home a little extra cash.
Fart Harnessing Idea One: Autobody Shop Assistant
Sherman could be placed in a sealed room with the parts of the car covered in old paint, rust, and other debris. The unwanted layers would melt off quickly in the presence of Shermans’ stank, avoiding the labourious task of sandblasting and the potential exposure of the workers to unnatural chemicals.
Fart Harnessing Idea Two: Children’s Party Entertainer
Kids think farts are the funniest thing going: anyone who’s taught junior high knows this. Sherman is an incredibly smart dog, so I figure it won’t be that difficult to teach him to whistle all the major hits on the Top 40 out his ann-oos. Lady Gaga in the key of gee that’s rank, heck yes!
Fart Harnessing Idea Three: College Party Game Director
College students feel the need to find excuses to consume alcohol. I also know that they don’t mind pooling their money to make the party just that little bit better. I’d like to rent Sherman out to be his own drinking game. The basic premise is that the party-goers imbibe each time the dog emits sound, stank, or both from his hindquarters. Luckily for the clients in this situation, the longer they play the game, the less they care that the wallpaper is peeling off the walls of their rented house.
Fart Harnessing Idea Four: Alternate Power Generator
Folks are worried about green power and the dwindling global supplies of fossil fuels. I get that. What I also know is that windmills are the power source of the future. With the strength of breezes the hairy one creates, and the sheer windspeed rolling out from under that spotted tail, I’m certain Sherman could power at least one or three turbines, all by his speckled self.
See, every cloud has a silver lining, even those sickly green clouds gathering thickly near the floor in my living room. Perhaps there is purpose behind the rot that emanates from my dog
daily hourly every few moments.
I know one thing for sure: it’s a darn good thing he’s cute.
copyright 2011: http://bluespeckledpup.com