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Weekly Contest #106
"You stupid dog." I groaned as I looked at the pile of poop on the floor. It was large, with a suspiciously large fly sitting on top of it. My dog, Elmo, was looking up at me with an innocent look in his eyes, like he hadn't even seen the mountain he'd made stinking up the room next to him. "That's where you're supposed to poop." I spat as I pointed at the newspaper laid out in the corner of the kitchen. He only opened his mouth and wagged his tail vigorously. I glared at him. He wasn't even my dog really, he had been my Grandma'...
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