Un Chien Pétomane

This last year has been interesting to say the least.

For it was about a year ago when our dog Arliss entered our lives. It’s been fun, infuriating, annoying, enjoyable, tiring, and downright frustrating at times when it came to training that animal. All this comes after years of being–completely satisfied, I might add–an owner of two cats.

Although Arliss has definitely calmed down since arriving, he still has his moments–like when he serenades us with his nightly rectal symphony.

Arliss, you see, can be quite gassy. Okay, never mind. He’s flat-out gassy. He farts like no other dog I’ve ever owned and when he does, sweet baby Jesus, the stink is terrible. I mean Foul with a capital f.

He doesn’t care who’s visiting, who’s sitting next to him or who he offends. The dog just lets them fly with so much reckless abandon that at times I’ve been tempted to cork him.

But last night, my friends, was absolutely the worst night our flatulent dog has ever had.

Anthony didn’t finish his dinner so I decided to give it to Arliss. (Note: I don’t normally feed the dog “human food” as I’m not one of those crazy dog owners that takes their animal everywhere and treats it like a child. Those that do are psycho.) I guess you might think this was all fine and well until you consider what we had for dinner last night: pasta with pesto sauce and broccoli.

Yeah. Stupid me. So you could say that what I’m about to tell you was all my fault.

We got to bed about 11 p.m. since getting Anthony to sleep was a bit of a struggle. Once we hit the sack we were pretty much out. And then it began.

At about 1 a.m. a loud noise woke me up. I sat up in bed groggy and waited to see if I heard it again. And you bet I did. It was the sound of Arliss dead asleep on Ann’s side of the bed (on the floor), farting away. But these were not ordinary dog farts.

They were loud. Hell, they woke me up. The were also extended remixes of his normal releases, some sounding like those I myself might even rip after a night of eating food I no longer eat. No, they definitely weren’t the kind he usually eeps out in his sleep, but unlike his standard flatulent escapades, they weren’t smelly. For that I am truly thankful. I tried to go back to sleep after realizing what the noise was but I was just laughing to hard.

I guess if there’s a lesson to be learned here, it’s not to feed your dog broccoli no matter how much be begs, pleads, or gives you the puppy-dog eyes.

Well, you can. But be prepared for a noisy night. You’ve been warned.


* Today’s post title was inspired by the Luis Buñuel movie Un Chien Andalou (WARNING! Graphic visual in trailer!) and French “fartiste” Le Petomane