We got our dog, Gil, a little over three years ago. I wasn’t sure I was ready for the responsibility of dog ownership, but my wife promised we could get a rough and rugged-sounding breed – he’s a Cockapoo, natch – so I relented.
I work from home, mostly, so it’s up to me to take Gil out periodically and I can safely say that I’ve never once found joy in picking up after him. Not once. Cockapoos are supposed to be intelligent? He wouldn’t know how to use a toilet if we gave him a pair of my socks as a reward.
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His inability to use a toilet doesn’t change the fact that I’ve cleaned up after him every single time he’s left a deposit somewhere. The same can’t be said for some…
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Dat shit cray
Dat shit cray