I grew up on a farm in Africa.
Thanks, Tiff.

I had a dog - Sam. He was a pure white bull-terrier. Funny thing about pure-breeds - they usually have something wrong with them. Sam was stone deaf.
I used to call him by thumping my foot on the ground (after I'd trained him to to "listen" for that).

Sam was the only "house-dog" on a farm where most of the dogs slept in a compound and were released every night. Sam slept with me in my room.

We lived in an old abandoned church. My bedroom was next to the reception area and the kitchen was the refectory.

1 night Sam woke up on my bed going absolutely ape-shit.
We'd had intruders before so I kinda rolled over - Sam was locked in with me and could protect me but wouldn't be able to hurt anyone else.

He kept going ballistic - enough to wake up everyone else. None of us had been awake otherwise.

I let Sam out of my room and he ran into the kitchen and started barking and growling. When we walked in we found all of the crockery and glassware cracked and broken. In tall-boys with glass doors that were still completely intact.

No one had heard anything remotely like breaking glass (other than the dog apparently) nor had we had an earthquake, break-in or grenade attack.

Sam never liked that tall-boy. Ever.
(Misery McUglywife an attention seeking sociopathic fuckstain., Fri 14 Sep 2012, 10:56, 4 replies)

Ace story!
A contender!

Did you have sex with the broken glass?
( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Fri 14 Sep 2012, 11:27, closed)

Not at that time, no.

(Misery McUglywife an attention seeking sociopathic fuckstain., Fri 14 Sep 2012, 12:28, closed)

Virgin.

( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Fri 14 Sep 2012, 13:40, closed)

You're welcome!

( Tiffany Aching 's bowl of oatmeal tried to stare her down and won, Fri 14 Sep 2012, 13:48, closed)