I’m dog-sitting a baby Boxer (I think she’s 3 months old) for my son and his girlfriend who are down from Halifax for a wedding. Wow. Nora (dog’s name) is a twirling, jumping, punching, vortex of energy. I love it!!  Actually, I took her for a little run today to settle her down and it worked.  See photo of resting puppy.

Anyway, last night I was sitting on the couch watching TV and something happened to me that never (I swear) NEVER happens.  I farted. It was one loud BLAT that scared the bejesus out of the puppy. She jumped two feet off the floor, ears pinned back, eyes scanning the room. If she could have said “What the fuck was that!?” she would have. Anyway, her eyes finally settled on a dirty old stuffed purple elephant on the couch.

IT HAD TO BE THAT, she said. Well, she spoke with her eyes and suddenly perked ears. SCARE ME WILL YA?  Nora grabbed the elephant and proceeded to shake the living shit out of it, left-right left-right left-right until it was damned good and dead. Satisfied, she left the purple mess in the middle of the living room floor and went back to gnawing on an old rawhide.

Makes me glad she didn’t realize it was ME. She’s not very big now, but eventually……Um.  We should probably keep it a secret that “grammy” farted. I’m sore enough most of the time without having my body flung around the room like an old purple elephant.




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