Right now, there is ample olfactory evidence that a small but powerful sulfur factory sits beneath my glass desk.
dog farts, scents, weimaraners
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Hahahaha! Close your eyes and imagine you are in Yellowstone Park! 🙂
Your blog is funny. I have a Weimaraner, who’s father is Knockin’ on Heaven’s door, but a different mother. I guess that makes Olive his half-sister from a different litter. His name is Rocco.
Then Rocco must be exceptionally handsome and charming!