Me and the dog; a shit story
Many years ago when I was still living at home, we had a Cocker Spaniel called Paddy. He was essentially a very nice little dog. We'd rescued him from the Blue Cross, and not much was known about his background. He was quite 'challenging' i.e. he was a pain in the fucking arse to take for a walk, given the chance he'd leg it out the front door and scream across the main road to the recreation ground from where he was a bugger to catch, he loved emptying the kitchen bin all over the floor, and he'd shit everywhere.

Being a teenage boy, and not being possessed of a great deal of patience and perhaps being a little antagonistic, the dog and I didn't always see eye-to-eye. Namely, he growled at me when I went near him, and I aimed a size 9 at him when he went near me.

Anyway, one morning, I opened my bedroom door to see my sister walking past, barefoot. I caught the moment perfectly that she squelched, full-on, into a mahoosive, cold, dog-egg. I nearly prolapsed from laughing so much, watching my sister gagging and retching while she hopped to the bog and flushed, while dangling her shit-ridden toes in the birthing pool.

The best bit is - and I shit you not - it happened the next day as well! 20 years later I can still smell it, and it still makes me laugh. The dog and I got on better after that, although I'm sure it was meant for me.

My sister got her own back one Sunday morning. I was the first up and went downstairs for an early morning cup of tea and some toast, and to watch telly in peace. As I tip-toed downstairs, in my dressing gown and barefoot, i spied the dog in the back garden drinking the grotty pond water (always gave him the runny shits, so was to be discouraged). I quietly opened the back door and stealthily crept towards him. About 4 or 5 foot away, with my prey in my sights, I sprang into action and made a lunge for him, trying to scare the shit out of him.

I needn't have bothered. He'd already done a steaming great shit on the path. I didn't see it and planted my bare-foot right in it and skidded, landing on my arse with my dressing gown flapping in the wind, with my less-than-impressive cobblers on show to the world. The dog nonchalently minced passed me while I hopped into the downstairs cloakroom (cos we're posh) and held my foot in the deep end and flushed my shit-ridden toes while trying to hold down last night's lasagne. I don't think the neighbours saw. I did tell my sister though. T'was only fair. She laughed. A lot.

When there's a 'shit' QOTW, as opposed to a shit QOTW, I'll post the story about how I trod doggy-poo into my GF's student house and into the single bed we were sharing, and how I couldn't identify the squishy stuff between my toes and was about to taste it, when the GF turned on the light.

I'm not 'into' shit. Honest. I've just had one or two 'accidents'. Haven't we all? Please say yes.....
(Tighthead, Thu 17 Dec 2009, 23:29, 2 replies)

there already was
a shit stories QOTW. You missed it... and part two.
(misskitty reeks of sex and turpentine; laudanum afternoons, Fri 18 Dec 2009, 2:35, closed)

before my time...
It's always the new kid/fat kid/new fat kid that gets picked on.
(Tighthead, Sun 20 Dec 2009, 8:56, closed)