The Dog Kicks After It Poops

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A: “I like your new dog.”

J: “He kicks after he poops.”

A: “Must be a pride thing.”

J: “I do the same thing.”

A: “That’s weird.”

J: “I don’t do it in front of people.”

A: “So do you kick the toilet? How do you not kick the toilet?”

J: “It’s more of a shuffle. The dog kicked his poop on me this morning.”

A: “Did it bounce off or stick?”

J: “Bounced off.”

A: “That’s good.”

J: “It reminds me of Cheech.”

A: “Cheech and Chong?”

J: “No. Our dead cat. She was incontinent.”

A: “All dead things are incontinent.”

J: “No she had her tail removed and it numbed her nether regions so she kind of spontaneously peed.”

A: “That sounds terrible.”

J: “It was. One time I met this cool new guy in the neighborhood and she came and peed on him.”

A: “How cool?”

J: “Cool clothes. Cool shoes. Probably had a cool job like a producer or something.”

A: “Oh.”

J: “I’m talking to him and then down the street I see Cheech emerge and start sauntering towards us.”

A: “Okay.”

J: “But I was like ‘Oh nononono not now not now’ and I’m looking over his shoulder as she gets closer and closer and she plops down right between us on her back and starts purring.”

A: “Did she pee?”

J: “It was way worse than that. He’s like ‘Is this your cat?’ and I’m like ‘Yes.’ and he reaches down to rub her belly and she kind of makes this strangled hairball noise and a stream of urine shoots up into the air and he’s like “Woah!!” and jumps back a few feet and it got on his white pants.”

A: “Jesus.”

J: “Then he just looks at me totally repulsed like I’m some freak and didn’t say anything and walked away.”

A: “That’s disgusting.”

J: “I know. I never saw him again.”

A: “It’s like no matter what you’re just a weird dirtbag with weird pets.”

J: “I think he moved away. That was my chance.”

A: “You have other neighbors.”

J: “They don’t talk to me. I’m pretty sure three households saw the poop get kicked on me this morning.”

A: “I wouldn’t talk to you either.”

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