The birds have escalated the War on PittGirl.
Yesterday — and if I’m making this up may a pigeon slash all four of my tires — a bird pooped all over my dog. Five giant white creamy splotches on her back, deep in her fur.
As if they looked down at her and said, “There’s PittGirl’s dog who dines on her own poop, who allows her brother to drink her pee, who regularly manages to get her own shit matted into balls on her butt and then scrapes her butt on PittGirl’s carpet, and whose doggie-breath could easily kill a hawk. How can we make her even MORE disgusting?”
They’ve seriously crossed the line now, because as I cleaned her off with Clorox Wipes (what?) I realized that I was currently only one thin disinfectant-coated paper layer away from touching actual bird poop.
And I’m really not okay with that.