Random Esquire

Little Filthy is wearing me out. I interrupted his morning tryst with a box of paperclips and just about came unglued. I had a come to Jesus moment, as my grandmother might say. Well, honestly, not my grandmother. My grandmother does not speak English. But someone’s grandmother, I am sure.

I called the vet and suffice to say that all is well now and no surgery was required. It occurred to me while speaking with Dr. Dog that it is no comfort to hear, “He’ll just pass it” because Little Filthy indulges in his own creations to fulfill his in-between-meal snacking needs. At best, either Boss or I will be right there to grab it, so to speak. At worse, the object will get caught in an endless loop of input and output.

We can not possibly have the only dog who eats everything like he is a great white. There’s probably a license plate and some tin cans in Little Filthy’s stomach. But even sharks have the good sense not to eat their own feces.

Please tell me we aren’t the only ones. What has your pug eaten?