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⚠️ Please read with care: This blog shares personal, sometimes painful experiences. My intention is to support and speak honestly not to harm. I’m not a professional, just someone who understands how hard it can get. If you're struggling, you're not alone please reach out for professional help.
Autumn is the season of cozy sweaters, pumpkin spice, and… bulldog presents that will make you gag. Meet Yopi, my Alpha Blue Blood Bulldog pure, a four-legged chaos agent whose idea of seasonal cheer involves a little “extra” in the gift department. She rules the yard, commands attention, and dispenses her love in ways that smell… memorable.
Here’s a darkly comic poem capturing the love, horror, and hilarity of living with a bulldog who truly gives from the heart (and the rear).
A funny whiff that twists the nose, Not perfume, not pine, not a rose. It's Yopi's gift, her Alpha art: A steaming log, given from the heart.
"Happy Autumn!" her eyes convey, "Here's a present to make your day." Yopi chimes with sovereign cheer, A jet-propelled arse a diarrhoea reindeer.
Round the hills she reigns, unholy, Spraying brown like Pillsbury's cannoli. Carollers faint; the shepherds flee; Even rustling leaves scream, "Not on me!"
Deck the yard with toilet roll, Light a candle, say a prayer for your soul. Autumn comes but once a year Sometimes it smells of bulldog rear.
I write in ink and fury, in breath and broken bone.
Through storm and silence, I survive. That is the crime and the miracle.
