Friday, April 5, 2019

If the Dog Could Talk

Welcome to a Secret Subject Swap. This week 10 brave bloggers picked a secret subject for someone else and were assigned a secret subject to interpret in their own style. Today we are all simultaneously divulging our topics and submitting our posts.

My secret subject is: One day your (pet of choice) looks at you and says ........

It was submitted by:

I'm not sure I really have an explanation for this.


I felt like living with so many pets had turned my life into the sort of chaotic weirdness of a Shel Silverstein poem. So I wrote one. And then I read it aloud to them all:

"Rost Bubbert "Bubby" French filled the house with an incredible stench.

It wafted through the kitchen across puddles of drool and came right for us, this posse of fools. It brought tears to our eyes, that stench, stinging our nostrils and causing pained cries.

Each pet took notice, every single French, and all of them added to that merciless stench.

Layla rose from her slumber and gassed her kennel cover off. Now even the cats began to cough. Donnie, not the bowler, howled out a horrendous toot while we managed to yell, "it's a good thing you're cute!"

But still each and every French added more and more to that hot cloud of stench.

Cash, always wanting to be part of the crew, squealed out a tiny fart or two. His brother Pee-Wee, the smallest pooter of all, blasted his stink through the living room and into the hall.

But they were not done, these Frenches with their awful stenches. Not done at all.

The cats joined in singing "the more the merrier" 'til each one of our chests grew quite a bit hairier. Each butt trumpet played a foul-smelling tune filling, to the ceiling, every single room.

But were they yet done? Not even a chance. Across all of our faces that stench cloud still danced.

Finn and Fiona, two peas in a pod, added puffs of their own that smelled of American cod. Me-Mow and Wigs, both nearly blind, let no disability stop them from tooting in kind.

It didn't end, that stench. There were more gas clouds left from the fur gang named French.

Aloy and Zelda lived up to their names and tooted while parkouring like in video games. Olive and Popeye, spooked by the noise, sharted while playing with a few of Rost's toys.

But that stench, having now grown misty, continued its travels smelling rotten and fishy.

Seymour and Mario, brothers for life, shot out foul streams that hit like a knife. But, it was Burton and Andy, the sweetest of lads, who farted right on me and gave me the sads.

Was it over yet? I dared to dream, and that's when all the b-holes really began to scream.

Scully and Marceline, the weirdest of the bunch, waltzed around the kitchen cropdusting our lunch. Queenie and Garth, not to be left out, tooted in unison while prancing about.

That stench grew bigger and bigger yet still. It filled every corner and continued to spill. The pressure was rising; the house began to quake. But the French pets still farted. How much more could we take?

The house expanded with every gaseous poof until finally one loud blast exploded the roof. It shot into the clouds and continued to soar into the stratosphere and a little bit more.

But still these Frenches tooted the smelliest smell until even the walls splintered and fell. So there we stood homeless and reeling. Words couldn't describe the feels we were feeling.

We did make plans though right then and there. This could never happen again; it wouldn't be fair. So we went to every store, every mall, and online and bought every box of gas ex we could possibly find."

When I'd finished, finally, Rost looked at me and said, "what the fuck, ma?"

But I didn't have an answer for him.

Here are links to all the sites now featuring Secret Subject Swap posts. Sit back, grab a cup, and check them all out. See you there:

Baking In A Tornado

Never Ever Give Up Hope

Wandering Web Designer

Cognitive Script

The Bergham Chronicles

The Crazy Mama Llama

Southern Belle Charm

Bookworm in the Kitchen

Stacy Sews and Schools


  1. Hysterical. Leave it to Rost to start it all, then end it all with his comment to you (it's always the human's fault, isn't it?).

  2. This was difficult for me -- my sense of smell is extremely sensitive LOL

  3. Holding my nose just thinking about the smell and laughing at the same time. Wonderful

  4. This is hysterical. When our frenchie was alive we thought the inhuman smell was from him. Months later my friend admitted it was her gas. Still a running joke all these years later.

  5. I wish I had your talent for writing! That was hilarious. I've lived with a dog (one at a time) and as much as I love animals I don't know how you do it. I would love to have a Great Dane though. My SIL had one and I loved that dog so much!

    1. Great danes are the best! I can't imagine life without one

  6. I am quite literally LOLing right now. What a fantastic job!!!!!!!