We can’t escape Peterbilt’s ass shenanigans, even in sleep.
There’s no escape.
My husband turned to me this morning and said:
“I had a dream that we were at the house I grew up in.
We had Peterbilt with us and we locked him up in the gated back yard.
But then he took a dump.
And then another dump.
Which was really bad because we were trespassing and the current owners were going to find shit in their backyard.
And then he started to shit again, but this time string came out. He started freaking out, spinning and growling because he couldn’t pinch it off. So I had to pull it out for him.
So even in my dreams, I’m still pulling shit out of this dog’s ass.”
He’ll make a great father one day 😉