Why I Sat On A Poo Couch

I changed Max’s food recently. He loved it. I loved it. We danced around in circles because we were so happy.

Then he pooed on my couch.

Max had never pooed on my couch, nor have I.

I decided to take a break from what I now call the poo couch, and I have stopped sitting down.

That’s until today when I accidentally sat on the poo couch, and I yelled out “dam you cursed poo couch.”

I have options. I can never sit down again in my apartment, or I can wash the cover, or I can burn the couch and throw it off my balcony.

I am attempting option 2 and the cover is in the washing machine as we speak. As the fabric of this fantastic expensive grey couch was probably made by BoConcept elves in France, I assume this will absolutely ruin the cover, but I am willing to risk it – because I can.

Do you have a poo couch in your life?

Have you recently changed your dog’s food and he now poos so much he could be in a pooing competition held by French elves who make fabric for grey couches?

I would love to hear from you.

Tweet me. Send me a messenger pigeon/Granville Island seagull. Or come by my place. I love to chat.

Love Aisha xx

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