~UPDATED~ So long, Sh*tbag

My dog disappeared yesterday. 

I was visiting with a friend and totally ignoring the "I have to poop NOW" signs, so right after said friend left, she laid down a massive deuce in the kids' room.  Yes. I was angry.  But, I just put her out on the patio, WITH THE GATE CLOSED, so that we would not have a repeat episode and so that I could clean up the poo.



I know, I know, it's a chipmunk smoking weed.
How very observant of you.   Still funny as shit!



Well, my attention span is that of a squirrel on crack sometimes and I neglected to let the dog back in after I was done.  About an hour later, I remembered and opened the door to let her in. 

NO DOG?!

Oh crap.
Gate open!

I have come to two possible conclusions.

1.  Some douche bag opened the gate and either let her out or took her.

2. She was so much smarter than we thought, got fed up with all the shit talk, and opened the gate herself with a plan to strike out on her own.  Plotting out her own destiny.  Wandering the American West like Caine, having adventures as a Shaolin Monk armed only with her skill in Kung Fu.



source


I hope she comes back.....kinda.

(side note: kinda and douche bag are in the spell check but Shaolin and Kung Fu are not.  Someone should really check into this.)

************UPDATE*************

A lady found her last night down by Chop Chop and said she was just the sweetest thing.  I guess Kung Fu is not her destiny.  She'll be back this afternoon.

************UPDATE*************

2.0

The lady brought her back and she ran away when we took her off the leash.  She came back.  So, earlier today I was walking her, and the bitch wrestled the collar off her neck and ran away again.  I'm done.  I have disowned her.  She is no longer my dog.

HI!! My name is Star and I'm a Sh*tbag!

I am a German Shepherd, Corgi mix a.k.a. serious genetic eff up.

I was named Star by some unimaginative jackwagon at SPCA and my mom and dad hate me too much were to lazy to change it.  My mom and dad usually call me "Shitbag", "Asshole", or "F*cktard" which they say with such inflection and pitch that I can only assume those words are high praise. My favorite things include chewing up anything I find on the floor, throwing up whatever I found on the floor 30 minutes later, barking like a Pomeranian on helium at 6:30 in the morning, and running away.

When I had a backyard, I loved to dig holes, and that is why my dad hates me with the intensity of a thousand suns.  He can fill in the holes in the yard, but I can never fill in the holes in our relationship.  

I love going on walks which include attempting to dislocate my mom's elbow, marking every shrub I come across, chasing after invisible cats, and sh*tting as far away from the dumpster as possible and always one more time than the amount of poop bags in my mom's pocket. 

# of poop bags + 1 = Amount of poop on ground

My pooping technique includes squatting down then walking in a circle whilst I poop, creating a trail that must be picked up one turd at a time, often resulting in Mom's fingers getting crap on them.

So, that's all there really is to know about me.  I'm glad you took the time to read my story.

Oh, one more thing, I shed enough hair to keep an entire Inuit family warm for 20 years in little under a week.

sinkhole photo source