Dogs Can Shit On Windowsills

I've just recently learned that dogs can shit on windowsills. I've witnessed it with my own two eyeballs.

Let me begin by introducing myself. My name is Shawnsie. For those of you lacking phonetic experience, it's pronounced SHAWN - SEE. I'm glad that's out of the way. I hope we can be friends.

Here is a list of things you may or may not like about me but are true nonetheless:

1. I have the attention span of  a 4 month old psychotic Jack Russell Terrier.
2. I have two dogs and a husband. (Neither of which are jack russell terriers).
3. I hate spiders and those fucking "million leggers" that live in and around fireplaces and sometimes lurk in your sink drain.
4. I would kill a man for the following: pie, ice cream, coffee, brownies, freshly-baked soft pretzels, pickles (dill only) and cocktail wieners.
5. I hate the snow.
6. I believe that Anthony Hopkins could be the anti-christ. 

Now that you know a little about me, I'd like to tell you a short story.

I recently returned from a trip to Texas (yes, it's hot as fuck). Brisby, known affectionately as "Momma", had contracted diarrhea. I'm not talking about your run of the mill diarrhea. This was far worse. I call it Projectile Diarrhea or Projectile D for short. [#7 of the aforementioned list: I take immense pleasure in giving cute nicknames to everything. especially gross things.]

Anyway, she was spray-farting and projectile D-ing for days. Concerned Husband and I stared at her in exasperation as she sharted all over the house. Not really sure what to do and dreading a trip to the vet's, we pretended that she was completely fine and that she was just expressing her inner joy through her anal glands. This was a bad idea. [#8: I often make really poor judgment calls when it comes to my dogs.]

One day, while I was diligently working on organizing shitstorms [#9: this is my actual job], Brisby was staring out the window watching the fattest squirrel you have ever seen in your life scurry around like a fucking creep in the tree outside my house. One minute, she's loving life, watching the squirrel and I'm swearing at my computer. The next minute, the sounds of sharts float into my ear. Intrigued/nervous, I turned in my chair to see her squatting on the windowsill in full projectile D position. My only regret is that I didn't have the forethought to take a picture of the little gem she left for me. In lieu of photographic evidence, I have provided a reenactment via Paint:

I should mention that we did take her to the vet's after she lost her ass all over our bedroom at 2 am. She's completely fine. I know you were concerned.