A story that was old when man first stepped forth as an upright primate ready to assail the world with his need for global dominance and his desire to bend the very environment to meet his needs.
It is the story of the dog who is crapping in my yard, and it really isn't that old at all, I just like being dramatic but the point is, today... I caught him in the act. HA! And people said all those millions of dollars I spent at Genius Detective School wouldn't pay off! Well who's laughing now? Seriously. I'd like to know because I'm not. A serious detective genius such as myself never gloats. Mostly because it opens us up to criticism about our own lifestyle, and who wants to look in THAT mirror?
I was minding my own business, inventing something revolutionary or solving an ancient riddle that has perplexed mankind for eons or eating some pie, when I heard the Saddest Dog in the World start bellowing like his back half had suddenly turned into a cat but he couldn't chase it because he was too slow with just his front legs and on top of that he knows that he gets whacked on the nose with the rolled-up newspaper when he chases his feline half and woe is him. I look out the window just in time to see the turdy bandit popping a squat right by my right front tire, which is like, RIGHT UNDER MY WINDOW, and this blatant showing of disrespect can only be attributed to bad parenting and I totally want to call child protective services on someone now*, only for dogs.
Artist Conceptualization of cat-dog hybrid
I run out of the house, bathrobe flapping behind me like a baby blue, terrycloth cape and I say " Dog, would you mind not doing that please? I find your feces to be highly offensive from an olfactory standpoint, and quite frankly looser than is probably healthy for you." Either that or I scream "Motherfucker!" at it and slip on the ice of my stoop and totally wipe out. And then I look around to see if anyone saw me and I'm grateful I put on underwear today and then the dog comes over and sniffs me whilst I'm lying there and then it walks away in no particular hurry.
And then I stepped in an old pile of his crap.
Dog 2, Kurt 0
* To make myself feel better I called Child Protective Services on my neighbor claiming that I heard them talk about how they use an old fridge as their "Quiet Box" when the kids are being obnoxious and also that I've seen them put a plastic bag and a rubber band over their kids heads, and they call this the "Dream Helmet" when the kids won't go to sleep, and sure I probably made it all up, but WHAT IF I'M ACTUALLY PSYCHIC and am just know getting in touch with my powers?!! Who knows what goes on over there that makes that damn dog so sad. I told the cops my name was George Bush. I totally think they bought it.
UPDATE: My lawyer says that's illegal and I shouldn't do it again. Bail was cheap this time. Win/Win.