Not on my futon!!!

This morning, as I was getting ready to leave for work, I started walking around and closing all of the doors. I went into the bedroom where I keep my comic books, my Fortress of Solitude so to speak, when I happened upon something strange. Smack dab in the middle of my futon was a pile of dog crap.

I looked at Hazel, I knew it was her because after a certain point you can tell whose dog poop is whose, and she cowered. I have had to shit pretty badly, and at one point I even let a wet fart slip while in bed, but to conciously pop a squat on a sheeted futon just blew my mind. Luckily it came off without a stain and I was able to flush it but I couldn't get over the fact that my dog jumped up on my couch and let fly. Why not on the floor?

That is all,

Newt