Dog ate goose poop

Dog ate goose poop

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Dog ate goose poop while in the park and now he doesn't want to go back," he would tell people. It was a sad story. He would do all sorts of stuff while in the park, like catch squirrels. He would eat peanuts, sometimes in the park and other times not. But he would always try to make it to the lake if at all possible.

When he was ten years old, he was found with food he'd stolen in his backpack. It consisted of a dozen apples, a pack of cigarettes, and two six-packs of beer. There were no other dogs in the park, which helped narrow the search for who'd stolen the beer. They found who'd stolen the cigarettes and beer quickly and returned it. Who'd stolen the apples, however, was another story. The poor dumb dog was still with them. He was going out in the woods in search of water to drink. After a while, he came running back, terrified.

"Oh, I'm so glad to see you!" they said. "What happened to you?"

"I think somebody stole my apples," he replied. "I found the beer, and I'm pretty sure the cigarettes went out the window."

They found the thief and returned all the stuff to the dumb dog. He was overjoyed to have his beer back. The first thing he did was take a large gulp. After finishing the second six-pack, he realized he'd stolen the beer.

"I'm sorry, buddy," he told the thief. "I guess you'll never get this back." He threw up his hand in apology.

"You're a smart guy," said the thief. "Can I buy you a beer next time?"

"Of course!" said the dumb dog. He held out his paw.

"I meant my treat," the thief clarified.

"Oh, you meant my treat."

The dumb dog looked at his paw and shook his head. "You know, this is the first time I've ever been the victim of theft."

"We'll take turns," said the thief.

"No. It's all or none," said the dumb dog. "If I'm to get the treat, you have to buy me my beer."

And so, the dumb dog waited for the thief to buy him his beer. After the thief had paid, he took out a twenty.

"Here, you want to have a game of catch?"

"It's not over yet, buddy," said the dumb dog.

"Fine," the thief agreed. He dropped the twenty and began running like a madman. But the dumb dog was having none of it. He began chasing the thief around and around the parking lot. The thief would run one way, the dumb dog would run the other, and they'd end up back at the thief's car. Over and over the game would go, the thief on the offensive, the dumb dog trying to slow him down. Finally, the dumb dog tired of running, and he lay down to rest. The thief, tired of the game, threw the twenty down on the ground, then stood still. He looked at the dumb dog, then back at his car, then back at the dumb dog again.

"Now," he said, "we're going to play a game of catch."

"What, like this?" asked the dumb dog. He picked up the twenty and threw it into the air.

"Just like that," the thief agreed. He grabbed the dumb dog by the paw and yanked him away from the money. Then, to the dumb dog's shock and surprise, he started walking off. The thief was fast. He made it to his car and slid in just before the dumb dog could grab his money. But the thief was not finished.

He turned the car around and pulled out, heading back to the dumb dog. The dumb dog began running, and he began to see it in his mind. If he was fast enough, he could catch the twenty before it hit the ground.

He ran full tilt toward the money, and just as he reached it, the thief stopped the car and pulled the dumb dog into the backseat with him. The dumb dog began to scream, but no sound came out. Instead, he looked down and saw that his paw was gone. The thief had taken it off!

"Aargh!" cried the dumb dog. "That's the last time I play with you!"

Back at the house, the parents were happy and tickled to see the dog back with a perfect paw. The thief had gotten away with the twenty, but the parents never saw him again.

_I see a dumb dog, running full tilt after an imaginary twenty-dollar bill, and I think: That's one story you'll never hear._

_But now it's another one. There's nothing in this story that's even remotely interesting. Why did you make me read this again?_

_I'll tell you, you rotten, lying, mean-spirited, heartless, two-faced, no-good two-by-four!_

_You said there was a hidden message in each one of my stories. And there is._

_Oh, no you don't. Just because I have a secret message, you don't get to change the story!_

_Fine. If you want to turn this into a story about a lazy dog, go ahead. The story is called_ You-Know-Who. _I'm going home. Good night!_

"You... you... you... you... you... You... you... you... You-Know-Who."

"It's like he didn't want us to remember him as a dog, and so he went and changed the story."

"It's like he was trying to make us love the idea of a lazy dog, because the dog was never lazy."

"And you were saying I make stuff up."

"This is what you do! You just make stuff up!"

At first, I made stuff up, like when I made one of my parents disappear. But it's not that I'm making stuff up now. I'm not. I just can't remember this last part of the story. I don't even know what happened. Because I'm making stuff up, of course I don't remember it.

I just made it up.

Now the parents are mad. I don't even remember what I made up. They're both talking to me. Both making the same argument. That I'm making it up. That I don't know what's going on.

I just didn't understand. I was so happy that I got to stay in the kitchen, and I was tired of the big, long night. And I wanted to go home. And I forgot about you.

Dad says, "This is why the stories have to be your own. To keep you safe."

"Oh. So what was the story?"

"The best story I know is in the Bible. But it was about a boy and his father. A father with no name, like your father. Just a man who had a child. A boy with no name. The story is about the boy and his father. The boy is just a little boy, but still, he has his own name. That's the best way to make sure you won't forget. It's easier to get lost in a story if it's all about you."

"What happened to the story?"

Watch the video: He eats goose poop. Married w. dogs vlog (February 2023).

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