Grandma's House

Acidman was posting tonight about his old dog Bud, who was a champion farter. We had a dog like that once. His name was Prince. He was a sheltie who normally didn't have any digestive problems. Until we took him to Kansas City with us for Thanksgiving with the in-laws. We were going to be there all weekend, and couldn't leave him at home alone. (I say couldn't because I've never had an outside dog. My dogs sleep in the house at night. Always.) Anyway, my father-in-law, rest his soul, fed Prince the same things he fed his dogs. He'd go to the local market and buy chicken livers, gizzards, hearts, etc., and boil them up for the dogs. That didn't go over too well with Prince's stomach. But the absolute worst was Thanksgiving Day, when he gave Prince some turkey. We had to drive back home that evening, and trust me, you do not want to be cooped up in a car with a dog who has eaten turkey. We couldn't open the windows because it was too cold. I thought we were all going to die. Needless to say, Prince never ate turkey again.