A Tail of Flatulence

I hope readers of this journal don’t finish reading this entry and decide that I am totally immature, but I cannot resist telling a hilarious Mojo story that happened one year ago today.      Every now and then, let’s just say, Mojo had gas issues, and last year on this date was one of his worst episodes. The whole family was sitting around the table, enjoying a wonderful dinner my mom had cooked to celebrate my grandma’s birthday, when from the corner, we heard a loud “tute”. For a moment, the room was silent with shock. It sounded like it came from Mojo, but we never knew it was possible for a dog to tute that loud! So we all decided it had to be my sister’s boyfriend who was sitting next to the dog. When all heads turned toward him, he said, “It wasn’t me! It was the dog!” Since he wasn’t the type of boy to do something like that at the dinner table, we believed him, and we all burst out laughing.
     Then, I don’t know if Mojo couldn’t help it, or if he was enjoying the attention, but he did it again! And a few minutes later, wow! Let’s just say we had to open a few windows!
     After this incident, it occurred to me that if I got a guide dog, he may be extremely well-trained, and have good manners. But a guide dog is still a dog, and some things are involuntary (laugh). Could my guide dog asphyxiate the class during an important lecture? (laugh) Fortunately, on the rare occasions when my guide dog has gas, it is silent, and not too deadly.

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