My wife is out with the boys as it's the last day of the school jollydays, so the mutt below is in the office with me.
I'm having a mellow day, struggling through the boredom of doing some accounting with a bit of Mozart on in the background ( I can be civilised, it's not all rugby and beer).
I popped out for a crafty fag, and came back to three piles of dog sick - on my light grey carpets.
One swift trip to Tesco for some cleaning products and ten minutes of halting the gag reflex and my work is done.
Fluffy shit for brains is curled up fast asleep on her bed, oblivious to my suffering.