One day we were blowing out the dogs. (a strange practice of giving them milk of magnesia so that they get a completely explosive, irridescent case of the shits! - more on my thoughts about that practice later!) anyway...
We had just come back to the kennel and we were thankful that none of the dogs had diarhhea in their crates. Greyhounds live in rows of crates which are stacked one on top of the other. Each crate is around 3 foot tall. This means the dogs in the top row are usually looking slightly down at you. It's nice because you can work with them at eye level.
We were in the process of letting the dogs go outside when Kim walked past one of the crates. One of the dogs blew out all over the side of her head! I watched as she was blasted with a burst of irridescent, green, slimey shit with all the force of one of those super soaker squirt guns! She stood there crying like Lucille Ball all covered in shit from head to toe!
My response of unadulterated laughter was not appreciated by her either. It didn't matter. I was helpless in my glee.