Morning rounds.

House next door where Service Dog Sue lives.

June 12, 2016 @0732

Clock two minutes slow, just chimed.  Returned from Mr. G.’s daily morning rounds.  Of course, his “Facebook” is the line of trees down the street where he tells what’s on his mind.  His “posts.”  Then he downloaded some shit down the block, which I dutifully apprehended into a bag.  Out front of our house a small pile of excrement caught my eye.  ‘Did Gunther leave this here last night?’ I wondered.

’No,’ I concluded, picking it up with the bag.  It was inferior.  Gooey, friable, not cohesive and crisp like Gunther’s.  That was some bad shit.