Well, stupid Momma finally figured out what was in my poops. Not such a big mystery after all. You see on Sunday, I had a most yummers cow trachea.
Made from an actual cow (hmmm... do you think cows are related to mastiffs at all - that guy kind of looks like me, same alert expression).
She remembered when she was reading about poor Checkers poopy problems. Of course I knew all along, but I let her fret a bit.
So she is all happy that it wasn't something scary from the constructions.
Oh yeah, she just left the poop mystery on the counter with a note to Master that said "do you know what this is?" She didn't even tell him where it came from. It was gone when she got home and he said, "it wasn't food, so I threw it out." Gosh, I hope he didn't sample it.
My good pal, Stan of Gooberstan made me an honorary goob! I am Mangogoober! WOW! That is so wicked pissa cool. Thanks, Stan. Here I am demonstrating my gooberist face. Obviously, Goobers are very intelligent as you can observe from my most large and deep thinking facials.
Mango Man! Oh yeah!