You know it's going to be a bad day when your piece 'o fluff dog runs in from outside, shakes shards of poop all over the bathroom floor and then turns his butt to you for help because a huge wad of poop is stuck to his butt hairs.
Then you place him backwards between your knees over the toilet with scissors in hand and lean over to try to find the best place to start snipping. Naturally the stench wafts straight up into your face assaulting your newly awakened senses first thing in the morning.
You puke over the top of him, brush your hair out of your eyes and continue to maneuver scissors between feces and rectum hoping you don't take a chunk out of tender flesh and praying you don't stab the turd thus releasing a fresh wave of aroma.
Yep... it's going to be a good day (sarcasm)
OR! I could be optimistic and say "If I can deal with shit like this first thing in the morning, all the rest of the bull should be a cakewalk." :-)
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