File type: Text File (.txt) [Download]
-----------------------------------------
  *Pffft!
  Bandit's eyes shot open and his ears went up, his sleep rudely interrupted by the sudden breaking of wind and the sharp sulfur smell. Blinking and yawning, the large Border Collie was further awakened by the morning sunlight pouring through the window. He lifted his head from his bed and looked around Mike’s bedroom. Not seeing his owner in his bed, Bandit’s ears flicked as he listened for him, but all he heard was the occasional creaking of the house, morning birdsong, and cars passing by on the nearby highway. Bandit was expecting to see his owner in bed since he usually woke up before him, but not today it seemed. Guessing by the smell of shower water and soap, the empty bed, and the lack of heavy footsteps through the house, Bandit figured his owner had already got up and left for work. The digital clock on the bedside dresser showed the time was a few minutes after nine. Since Mike gets ready for work around eight, he was long gone. “Wow…I slept in late, huh?” Bandit muttered to himself.
  He put his forepaws out in front of himself as he stretched. It was the start of another day in his new house. He and his owner, Mike, had moved into their new home a month and a half ago. It took a bit of adjusting, but Bandit took a liking to his new two-story home. The house had a beautiful garden in the large front yard and not far off was a beautiful beach, giving the active dog plenty of space to run and play. The only real flaw was that it lacked a doggie door like his last house had, which Mike planned to install. Finally, the best part about his new home was the cute lady canine that lived next door. Bandit was smitten at first sight of her. Never had he seen a lady as beautiful as her, he would say. Every chance he got to be with her was a day in heaven. Lucky for him, every other weekday Bandit was granted the chance to hang out with her when the dog walker picked them up for a day at the park while their owners were at work. Needless to say, he was looking forward to seeing her again today.
  Another squeaky ripper blew out Bandit’s backend as he stretched. His stomach gurgled with the full sensation of needing to take a dump. Remembering that he hadn’t pooped since yesterday afternoon, it was about time to take care of that need. This was the norm in the mornings for Bandit did not like to wake Mike to go outside during the night unless the need was very urgent. That big dinner he had from last night had sat stewing in his gut for nearly twelve hours, so it was no wonder he was so gassy this morning.
  The Collie shook the sleepiness from his body as he finally got up. Bandit was a large dog, his shoulders reaching just above his owner’s knees. He was a bit on the chunky side, sporting a roundish middle which Bandit would swear was extra fur or muscle if anyone asked. He had a short-fur coat that was mostly black, save for his tail and legs which were covered in light brown, and his belly white. His head was also black with white running down the middle covering his muzzle. Above his eyes were light brown dots that acted like eyebrows, and around his neck was a ring of white fur. He wore a collar that was made to look like a red plaid bandana and a pair of brass name tags shaped like bones. He was no prize-winning show dog, but in his owner’s eyes, he was a perfect furry ball of love.
  Suddenly, Bandit's ears perked to the familiar soft sound of gears whirring. "Ah, crap! Not yet! Hold up! Hold up!" Bandit raced out of the room, his name tags rattling as he ran. He dashed out of the bedroom, down the stairs, and into the kitchen, the whirring growing louder as he neared its source.
Near the kitchen table were his food and water bowl. The bowls were set up to a time-set automatic dispensing machine so that Bandit could be fed and watered during the hours his owner was away. The dispenser was a small white rectangular tower of a machine no bigger or heavier than Bandit with spouts under it that put out food and water into feed bowls. As the Collie neared the machine, the whirring coming from the dispenser finally turned off as it finished putting out a serving of dog food.
  "Darn it! So close!" Bandit whimpered. The dispenser always filled his bowl on time every day, but the half-filled bowl was not enough to satisfy the Collie glutton. Mike had set the dispenser to give him small healthy amounts, but if it wasn’t enough to fill the bowl then it wasn’t enough to fill Bandit’s stomach. Good thing for the hungry dog that he figured out a trick for getting more from the machine when his owner wasn’t around; a strong bump to the side of the dispenser while it was putting out food would give Bandit extra servings if he timed it right. Alas, he was too late this time for the food had already been served, his chance missed by seconds. "Darn it!” he growled. He knew it wouldn’t work, but out of frustration, he gave the machine a little bump with his hip anyway. As expected, the machine had gone dormant and was not going to put out another drop until lunchtime.
  He stared down at the poor excuse for breakfast. “This is NOT going to fill me,” he whined. Still, his stomach growled for it, and disappointment was not going to fill his empty tummy. “Fine. I'll eat what I got." He dug in vigorously, taking big hungry bites. The amount may be small, but the food was as delicious as it was expensive. The canned chow was a mix of grilled and seasoned beef and chicken coated in brown gravy and topped off with veggies. No dog Bandit knew was a fan of veggies, but there was just enough to give him all the nutrients his body needed without ruining the meal. It was the same food that he had from last night but he wasn't complaining about repeat meals, especially when it tastes this good. His owner always gave him the good stuff after all. However, there was a slight aftertaste Bandit didn't get. Although not bad, it was noticeable and he couldn’t put his paw on what it tasted like. Nevertheless, the flavor wasn’t bad enough to ruin his meal, so Bandit ignored it.
  Meanwhile, in the living room, the phone rang. After too many rings, the answering machine turned on. "Hey, Mike,” said the caller, “It’s me, Ron, your dog walker. Well, of course, you know that. Who else could it be…Anyway, I won’t be able to get your dog today. Something urgent came up and…Damn it, why didn’t I just call his cell phone…" and the call suddenly ended.
  "Hmm?" Bandit was barely listening. His ears perked to the sound of the ringing phone, only to ignore the missed call and go back to his meal. He wouldn’t comprehend it anyway. Bandit understood human-speak enough to know what he was trained to know. Simple commands and keywords like “sit,” “come,” and “vet” were drilled into his head. Other than that and a few other words, he didn’t understand much. Humans talked too much and there was too much to learn, Bandit thought.
  Too soon, Bandit’s food and water bowls were empty, licked clean of yummy food and water. Finished with his breakfast, he sat back on his hunches looking at the empty bowls. “Crap…I’m still hungry…” he whined.
Speaking of crap, this would be around the time Mike would let him outside. The full feeling in his bowels and bladder had not gone forgotten and he wished to go out into the garden and deal with that. Until the doggie door was installed, Bandit had to be let out and in by someone. Since Mike was gone, Bandit was going to have to wait until the walker showed up. He jumped on the breakfast nook seat and looked out the window. The short blond male human shouldn’t be long, Bandit hoped. The walker usually had to pick up a few other dogs before he got to Bandit, but Bandit hoped that he would be the first dog picked up this time. That way, he could poop in the yard without the judging eyes of the other dogs. The other dogs may not have cared about others watching while they pooped but Bandit did. Prying eyes made him so nervous that he couldn’t do “his business” properly. He could only hope it wouldn’t be like that today.
He pushed thoughts of pooping in the yard out of his mind. He could hold it for the time being, but it was a nagging feeling that needed to be dealt with, not to mention his bladder also felt full. He couldn’t believe he drank his water bowl dry when he already needed to pee this bad. I’m going to regret this later, he thought.
Bandit stood at the window expecting the human to pop up at any time, but the walker wasn’t showing. The analog clock on the wall showed that it was still too early for the walker to show up. “No point in standing at the window,” he said. “He’ll get here when he gets here.”
  Bandit left for the living room to find something else to do. Mike always left the television on and tuned to Bandit’s favorite cartoon channel for him to watch while he was gone. The Collie settled on his doggie pillow next to the couch and found his favorite chew toy. He chewed on the squeaky red plastic toy rabbit as he watched the current show. It wasn’t much but it was a good way to make time fly by. All the while, bubbly gurgles rang from Bandit’s gut.  Digesting his breakfast and all that gas from last night had his gut very noisy. The sounds were barely noticeable at first but grew more ferocious as the pressure built in his belly. Suddenly, Bandit felt that boiling heaviness shifting downward, his stomach burbling louder until Bandit felt it at his asshole. Out of instinct, he lifted his tail and let it fly…
*PPPFFFfffttttt!
  The sheer force that blew out his ass took him by surprise, nearly making him drop his toy as the long booming trumpet blew out his back end and echoed through the living room. It burst out so hard and fast, he felt it rattle his spine. "Woof! That reeks!" he admitted. The beefy-sulfur smell hit his nose in a flash and nearly making him gag at how potent it was. He chuckled to himself; a bit proud of how pungent his ass gas smelled. More rumbling from his gut announced the coming of more gastrointestinal air building inside of him. No point in letting it stay in, he forced the noxious fumes out. It was another bassy release, not as loud as the first but lasting longer and ending with a squeaky note. "Whew…I was holding all that since last night?" he muttered before breaking wind again. This exposition was shorter with a deep tone. “That chow is so good, but I think it's making me so gassy.” He grunted as he forced out a fluttery fart. “Meh, a little gas is a small price for good chow.” He rolled over on his back, to make letting the gas out much easier. A chain of toots blew out of his pucker varying in loudness and length, all of them stinking up the room with the scent of digested meat and spice. With the house all to himself, there was no point in holding back, not that Mike was a stranger to his flatulence. The farting was making his stomach feel better, lessening his urge to poop, but he still had to be careful not to fart too hard and cause a "misfire."
  For the next few hours, Bandit waited for the dog walker to come to the door. Every once in a while, he would walk up to the window by the front door and stood up to it, looking around outside for the walker, but he had yet to appear. All the while, the gas in his bowels lessened but would not stop coming; the relief was slight but it was better than nothing. However, it did nothing for his irksome bladder. His need to pee worsened as his bladder continued to fill. Bandit could maybe hold off pooping but his bladder was a different story. He couldn’t help but imagine what would happen if the walker didn’t show soon. He knew better than to make the house his bathroom. It was the long years of potty training that kept him from picking a corner of the house and shitting in it, not that he didn’t have a few nice spots picked out. Still, he resisted those instincts for Mike’s sake, but if the walker didn’t show up soon, Bandit wasn’t sure what would happen.
  Hours had passed by and still no walker. His stomach rumbled again, but this was a sound of hunger. "I knew that little bit of food wasn’t going to keep me full," Bandit complained. The clock showed that noon was nearing. In a few minutes, the food dispenser would put out more chow. "I'm not going to miss it this time," Bandit said as got up from his pillow. He started to walk back into the kitchen when a short quiet toot escaped his rear. “Really? How can I still be gassy? I’ve been farting all morning,” Bandit groaned. He could still feel the remaining stomach fumes still roiling in his gut. “Wow, I never had gas this bad before. It was funny at first, but come on already!”
  In the kitchen, the dispenser had not turned on yet, but it wouldn’t be long before it did. The collie sat down on his hunches next to it and waited. He could already smell the meaty chow within it, his mouth watering and his stomach rumbling impatiently. Minutes felt like hours as he waited for the familiar sound. Suddenly, the machine clicked to life. The internal mechanisms started to whirr and food and water poured from the machine into the bowl.
  Bandit watched with glee as his bowls started to fill, but he stayed where he was not yet touching his food. "Wait for it…" Bandit muttered to himself as he stood up next to the machine, lining it up with his hip.
  The whirring continued. The collie had his ears turned to the dispenser. The right time was coming up, mere seconds to go…
  "Wait for it…"
  Chow fell into the bowl until it was halfway full like earlier. Still, the inside of the dispenser whirred as the mechanisms within started to return to their dormant states. Bandit’s tail wagged with impatience as he readied himself for that special moment.
  “Wait for it….”
  Suddenly, there was a faint click. Humans wouldn’t have noticed the sound, but to Bandit’s ears, it was loud as thunder. He knocked the machine with his hip, nearly bumping it over. The whirring grew loud again, then started to put out more food into the bowl. Bandit happily barked at his success, but then something unexpected happened.
  Usually, he was supposed to get double the food, but the machine was overfilling the bowl. Gone went the gentle whirring, replaced by loud clinking and sputtering. "No, no, no! Stop Stop!” Bandit barked at it. “That’s too much. Too much!" He tried hitting it again, but that changed nothing. Still, it put out food, filling the bowl until meat and gravy were spilling over the sides and covering the entire bowl in a little tower of chow.
  When the mountain of chow was a foot tall, food stopped coming out, and the gears within stopped moving. Bandit could do little but look at the machine in confusion, half expecting it would start up again. "I think I might’ve broken it," Bandit said. “Oh, well. Mike can fix it…or something...” There was nothing he could do about it, lest he makes matters worse. On the bright side, he had all the food he could want! Finally, he had a meal fit for someone of his appetite.
  Tail wagging joyfully, he dug into the meal, eagerly and happily clearing off the top of the tower of meat and gravy. He ate as if had he not eaten in years and never was going to again, the empty void in his gut quickly filling. Again, there was that curious flavor hiding just underneath the good tastes. For once, Bandit questioned it, but couldn’t come up with an answer. “What is that?” Bandit questioned as he chewed. “It's so bland, yet…ah, to heck with it! It's nothing.”
  It wasn’t long before Bandit was starting to feel full. He had cleared the top of the pile of chow, leaving only a bowlful of food left. Any other time, he could easily clear out that amount, but at the moment it felt like too much. Still, he kept eating but the fullness was starting to get to him. “Okay…maybe I’ve bitten off a little more than I can chew…" He said after a gulp. “I wanted a bigger helping but not this much, sheesh!”
  He decided to take a break and sat back from the bowl. He looked at the bowl as if it offended him, the leftover chow taunting him. He put a paw to his gut, feeling how round and full his belly had got. It made a vulgar whine as his digestion was working hard to break down his meal. A nice long nap was sounding good, but no. Not yet. Full or not, Bandit was not one to back down from an eating challenge. He never left his bowl full of food that he liked, and he was not about to start today! Besides, if he still had a full bowl when Mike got back, his owner would think something was wrong with the gluttonous dog. With a determined sigh, he braced himself to eat more. He could handle this. “Good thing this stuff’s delicious, or else I couldn’t keep going.”
  Bite after bite, gulp after gulp, he pushed himself to eat everything in the bowl. With nearly all the time in the world, he paced himself, taking breaks between mouthfuls and drinking sips of water to wash everything down. His stomach felt heavy and stretched beyond full, the pain and soft rumbles from his gut warning that it was stuffed enough, but he could stop until the bowl was licked clean.
  Finally, he pulled it off. On the kitchen floor, Bandit let himself fall on his back, paws up and his swollen belly in the air. His bloated middle burbled sickly as the contents of his gut shifted about. "Uuuhhh…That’s the spot…" He groaned then suddenly belched. His stomach whined and gurgled as it got to work breaking down the meal. His stuffed tummy looked twice as round as before, the aching fullness claiming his entire middle. "I’ve totally overdone it there…” he sighed. He put a paw over his muzzle as he felt the bile taste of his food coming up but relaxed as he realized it was just another burp. The rank air blew out his mouth in a rancid belch. “But, worth it!" He was stuffed, but it wasn’t a happy fullness. In his greed, he had pushed his stomach too far. Yet, a minor stomach ache was a small price to pay for getting to eat as much as he wanted.
  There was a better place to sleep off a big meal than the kitchen floor. Groaning, Bandit pulled himself to his paws, his stomach burbling raucously as he moved. Lazily, he trotted out of the kitchen and found his bed in the living room. "Oof!" he let himself fall on the pillow and rolled to his back, his bloated belly sloshing and wobbling until it was finally still. As his paw fell on his gut, he felt the firm full roundness of his stomach even through the thick fur, his middle looking as big and full as he felt. Bandit could only imagine what Mike would say if he saw his Collie like this. “I could sure go for a belly rub right now, Mike…” Bandit groaned as he thought of his owner.
Without warning, Bandit let out a long belch followed by a quick and loud squeaky fart. “Great…now I got air blowing out of both ends…” he joked. After eating so much, he was starting to feel sleepy. Before his eyes closed, he gave one last thought to where the heck the walker was. I’ll wake up when he shows up, Bandit thought as sleep took him.

  *Pppppprrrrttttffff!
  An anal outburst woke Bandit from his slumber for the second time that day. The first thing he noticed was how foul-smelling the air was. It stunk before, but he had been putting out ass fumes throughout his nap. The disgusting fumes pooled in the air of the living room, making it near-unbreathable. Looking at the clock it was a few minutes past one-thirty; He had been asleep for over an hour.
  The next thing he knew was that he really needed to pee. His bladder had filled further as he slept, stretching to its limit to hold more than it was meant to. Before it was urgent yet manageable, but the need had gotten so bad he was nearly wetting himself. He rolled off his bed and pulled himself to his feet. His bladder ached in his lower gut as he moved, the bloated fullness of the organ becoming more realized as he stood. Even after sleeping for so long, his stomach still felt full, but his bowels felt fuller. He had to get outside and relieve himself. Finally standing, he was met by an ominous rumble from his bowels. He whimpered as he felt a solid mass stretching and shifting through his colon until it was pressing against his asshole. He strained to hold the heavy turd in. Even with his pucker clenched tight, deafening fluttery toots escaped his back end. He clenched and strained until he felt the log retreat into his bowels but the urgent pressure was still there, waiting for him to let his guard down a little.
  Hastily, he walked up to the window and looked outside. Still, he saw no one, not even a passing car. “Did he show up and go when I was sleeping?” Bandit questioned. At this point, he didn’t care if Mike or the walker showed up, just anyone to please take him outside. "Come on! Where are you guys…" he whimpered as he looked around. “Where is he? I need to go outside.”
  His belly burbled forebodingly, making him come down from the window and cringe in pain. So much had been sitting in his gut for over a day and it was eager to come out. He paced the floor in hopes of the knot in his stomach easing up. Yet, the pressure built until a loud toot escaped his backside. “How can I still be gassy?” he asked. His ass had already put out enough hot air to turn the entire house into his personal Dutch oven, and still, his bowels produced more with no end in sight!
  As 2 PM came around, Bandit figured that it was too late in the day to keep hoping for the walker to show, so his best bet was his owner. However, Mike usually drove into the driveway around five-thirty. It was going to be a long wait, but there was no other choice. “Can I even make it that long?” Bandit questioned.
  Bandit sat at the door expecting it to open at any time, eager to zip outside once the way was made. From where he sat, he could still see the television. Watching a few cartoons and keeping still helped stem the urgency in his bowels and bladder, but the effect was short-lived. He constantly clenched his inner muscles, the loads that they held back slowly worsening as the minutes passed by. Angry rumbles and burbling rang from his bowels and his bladder throbbed constantly. Bandit’s eyes stayed on the clock watching the minutes go but time could not move fast enough. Too soon, keeping still wasn’t working anymore. Getting up and stepping around the living brought him a moment of relief before he had to sit again. His nagging bladder made him get up and pace, but his cramping stomach made him sit down.
  “This is getting bad…” he groaned. “Could someone please open the door already?” He wanted nothing more than to poop and pee. Again, he thought of finding a nice hidden corner to poop in, but he couldn’t bring himself to it. After years of housebreaking training, the mere idea of soiling the carpet felt wrong, not that his aching bowels cared. Maybe he could hide it, Bandit thought, but that was hopeless. Even if he could hide the mess, there was no hiding the smell. Besides, guessing by the heavy feeling in his gut, Bandit knew there was nowhere in the house to hide the massive shit he had to take. He had no choice but to wait.
As the next hour came and went, his situation worsened. His random walking around brought him next to the couch where he was sitting as still as a statue, his inner muscles tensed. He was tired of farting so much to the point his tail hole was sore, instead clenching his pucker shut to not let anything escape. His stomach roiled as pent-up gas built up inside of him, but still, he held it, hopefully until Mike returned.
  Out of nowhere, Bandit yelped. His poor bladder, full and stretched to its limit, leaked. Looking down at his crotch, Bandit didn’t see any damp spot on the carpet where he sat but he was sure he pissed a little and there was going to be a lot more if he didn’t do something soon! His bladder would not wait another hour. Not even another second!
  There was only one place he could think of: The flower pot upstairs. In the corner of the upstairs hallway was a small blue and yellow flower with a dead cactus plant sitting in it. It was a gift given to Mike that he held dear and he had brought along from their last house. He could never grow anything in it but kept it around because he thought it looked cool.
  Whether he had the time or not, Bandit couldn’t think of anywhere else he could pee that would hide his mess as well as dark soil. It was better to ask forgiveness than permission at this point. Bandit got up and started going up the stairs. He didn’t realize how much of a challenge this would be until his rear legs climbed the steps. With each fall of his paws, he felt the contents of his bladder slosh. Having not peed in nearly a day, his sphincter ached from being strained for so long and the big movements weakened their grip. There were thirteen steps to his destination, and climbing the first four was agony. Just a few more steps, he kept telling himself before carefully climbing the next one. He froze suddenly when he felt another leak. This time he was sure that something came out. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t keep going.
  “Screw this!” Bandit dashed up the remaining steps despite the throbbing bladder. Reaching the top, he was beyond desperate, his bladder on the verge of exploding! The flower pot he sought was sitting in the corner of the hall. He bolted to the pot, and lift his rear leg to it, barely having the time to aim at the plant soil. Standing on three paws was not an easy task, his pose shaking and making his stream splash about. He let out a relieving whine as the full tension in his abdomen ebbed away. The dry soil grew damp as his yellowish deluge fell upon it. Anything that fell outside the pot was soaked into the carpet, likely to dry up before Mike returned. As his bladder emptied, he relaxed too much, letting a noxious low tone fart escape. The smell was more pungent than before, quickly filling the upstairs air with the smell of rotten meat. The escaped fart led to his need to shit spiking. He clenched his booty cheeks to keep anything else from slipping out, but that cost him some of his balance, making his stream splash on the floor again. Luckily, he was nearly done, his stream becoming a mere trickle and then dying out completely.
  The soil was completely soaked, yet, the cactus was still looking dead. Dark spots were all over the floor around the pot, but Bandit had to hope Mike wouldn’t notice. Relieving his bladder was only half his problem solved. If only he could shit in the pot too. He considered digging up the dirt and pooping in the hole, then covering it up again, but knew that he would only make a bigger mess than what he was trying to prevent.
  Out of options, Bandit went back downstairs and back to the front door. “Nope…he’s still not here! Come on already!” he growled. He was so tired of waiting! He had been stuck waiting for his owner to return before, but never had it felt as long as this day!
  The afternoon hours were the longest Bandit had ever known. His noisy bowels grew angrier the longer he held his farts. He was afraid that if he relaxed even a little more than gas would fly out his ass. The cartoons weren’t so distracting anymore as the bloating pain worsened. His belly felt like a boiling cauldron where within everything he had eaten from yesterday, that morning, and for lunch was brewing and churning into a terrible concoction. It was a miracle that he managed to last this long. So many times, the pressure behind his anus spiked, and his colon neared bursting, but Bandit kept it contained with sheer determination.
  He watched the clock announce that 5:30 had come but still, Mike had not shown up. This wasn’t strange for he never returned exactly at that time, but Bandit really needed him to be there! The eager Collie watched the driveway, excepting Mike to show at any moment. He struggled to ignore his gut’s painful rumblings, keeping in mind that the end was close. He only had to wait a little longer. “Mike’s coming,” he told himself with a whimper as he paced around the door, “He’s coming. But, hurry up, already!”
  Fifteen more minutes passed, and Bandit’s patience was at an end. All this waiting was getting him nowhere. “I can’t wait anymore! I’m going to have to let myself out!” Bandit concluded. He never tried opening the door before, but it was a good time to figure it out. He stared at the front door knob and the deadbolt lock as he tried to figure it out. “Okay, I can do this…” he muttered over his stomach’s whining, “I watched Mike do this hundreds of times. How hard could it be?” He jumped up on the door and tried to grip the doorknob with his paws. It took a few tries, but with a careful bite and a turn of his head, he was able to turn the latch in the center of the knob, unlocking the door. All that was left was to turn the knob, but whether by bite or his paws, Bandit couldn’t get the right grip to turn it.
  He barked and growled as he put in his best effort but he had to give up. The second he fell back to the floor on all fours, a loud sickly gurgle sounded from his middle. Bandit cringed and whimpered in pain as the ominous pressure roiled nonstop through his gut. He clenched his pucker but there was no stopping what was coming. He had been holding back most of his farts for so long, the pressure had grown too much. Bandit barked in shock and pain as the pent-up gas rocketed out of his sore ass in a long bassy ripper. “Ohh…Oohhh! That’s bad! That smells terrible!” Bandit whimpered as he gagged on his own gas. The heavy scent of dog ass and death refilled the house, giving Bandit no escape from his own fumes. Before he could enjoy the relief of the gassy release, the flatulence ended on a harsh wet note. “Oh, no…” the poor dog whined. The mushy sensation and the rebuilding pressure warned that there was more than gas that wanted out. His body squatted in preparation to poo, but Bandit resisted. The bulky turd that Bandit had been holding for so long was threatening to punch through his clenched pucker. This was it. Bandit looked around the living room and found a nice corner to squat in. He just hoped that Mike understood the situation.
  Suddenly, Bandit’s ears turned to the sound of a car driving into the driveway. "Mike! Oh, thank dog!” The Collie stood at the door, hopping from foot to foot as he heard Mike’s steps coming closer. The second his owner opened the door, he was going to bolt out of there. At least, that was the plan. Hearing the sound of keys in the lock, Bandit's stomach rebelled again, but the poor dog fought off the urge to squat.
  Mike came into the house hurryingly. "Hey, boy! How are...Ugh! It stinks in here!" The short brown-haired human commented as he hastily got through the door and closed it behind him. Bandit watched with sad eyes as his gateway to salvation was closed in front of him. “No, no, no! Open the door! Open the door!” Bandit barked. He scratched at the door, his signal that he needed to go outside, but Mike didn’t notice as he charged into the house. The dog’s pleas for help were only heard as excited barks and whines. Mike barely took the time to acknowledge his dog’s plight as he kicked off his work shoes and made a hasty beeline for the bathroom, shutting himself inside. Bandit continued to bark from outside the bathroom, begging his owner to help him. “Give me a moment, Bandit…” Mike commanded from behind the door.
  Suddenly, there was the sound of a fart, but it came from Mike. Bandit took the hint of what was happening on the other side of the door. “It's not fair! How come YOU get to shit in the house?" Bandit barked at the door but then whimpered as a loud aching whine sounded from his gut. His rear legs started to squat but he kept his hole clenched and covered by his tail. Yet, long fluttery toots still slipped out his behind. Bandit whimpered at the pain until the pressure retreated back into his gut, barely holding off the urge to shit on the floor. He knew he couldn’t keep this up, but Mike was home and his chance was so close.
  Nearly five minutes passed before the toilet flushed and the sink turned on. Mike opened the bathroom door to find a very desperate-looking bandit waiting for him. "Oh, God, Bandit. What did you do?” Mike questioned as he fanned the smell from his nose. “Alright, where did you poop?" As Mike looked around, his nose wrinkled at the smell as he tried to hone in on the source. Bandit barked and jumped at him as he tried to lead him to the front door. "We’ll play later,” Mike told Bandit, “Just show me where you pooped already so I can clean it up." Mike looked around the living room where the smell was strongest but he saw no sign of fecal matter anywhere. He hit the answering machine and listened to the message as he looked around. He groaned as he heard Ron speak. "No wonder the place stinks, you been cooped up in here all day. Damn dog walker canceling at last minute,” Mike grumbled.
  Finding nothing downstairs, Mike stepped upstairs and started to look around. He checked every possible corner as he tried to follow the lingering scent, but found nothing. The small pee stains from earlier had all dried up and he didn’t even look at the flower pot. All the while, Bandit was at Mike’s heels barking and whimpering. “There’s nothing up there!” Bandit kept telling him. “Just please open the door!”
  Finding no poop, Mike finally noticed his dog’s desperate behavior. He knew too well what the bowlegged prancing and the needly look on his face meant. Mike found no mess but there was going to be one if he didn’t let Bandit out quick. “Okay, okay, I get it. Let’s get you outside,” he told his dog. The human headed back downstairs with Bandit close behind him. The dog sighed with relief that he finally got the message across. He watched as Mike walk up to the front door, only to turn and grab his shoes nearby that he took off earlier. Bandit was nearly losing his mind! He barked madly, urging his human to hurry up. “Okay, okay! Keep your fur on! I’m letting you out.” Mike hastily put his shoes back on and then opened the door for his desperate pooch.
  The second the door was opened, Bandit dashed outside into the front yard. The afternoon sun was setting low on the horizon, still putting out enough light to see. The fresh outside air was a welcome change from the house full of farts. Bandit cared for little else than finding a place to shit. No one was watching, save for Mike from the front porch, but Bandit knew he would look away as soon as he squatted. “Don’t shit on the flowers, Bandit!” Mike warned when he saw his dog head to the garden. However, Bandit had another destination in mind: The grassy patch of land next to the compost heap was the perfect spot to unload. His ordeal nearly over, he rushed over to the spot and squatted, expecting the next moment to bring sweet relief…
  "Mike, is that you?"
  Mike looked over to the nearby fence bordering the yard and saw his neighbor stepping out her front door. Following closely behind the platinum blonde was a beautiful collie. "Oh, Michelle. How are you doing?" Mike said. He walked off the porch and meet Michelle at the fence.
  The pretty Collie ran up to the fence, ignoring the humans but looking at Bandit through the wooden pickets. "Hey, Bandit!"
  Oh no! Not now, Bandit thought. He turned and saw the fair maiden of a dog looking at him from between the wood of the fence. "Hey! Bandit!"
  At the sound of the female’s voice, Bandit’s heart would fill with excitement, but this time a shiver of fear ran down his spine. He turned to see the prettiest Rough Collie he had ever known looking at him through the fence at the edge of the flowerbed. Her long silky fur was purely white save for around her amber eyes and muzzle which was light brown. Her long fluffy tail wagged behind her when she saw him. "Over here!” she called out to him again in her sweet voice.
  Quickly, Bandit stood up trying to look as normal as possible. He kept his tail over his anus as he clenched it shut. His insides toiled and rebelled at the denied release, but he had to hold the urgent load a little longer. He pawed up to the fence as naturally as he could. "H-hey, Flower…Long time no see." he said nervously, "How are you?"
  "Long time? We just saw each other yesterday,” she chuckled.
  "Yeah…" he nervously chuckled, “Yeah…right…”
  As Bandit and Flower talked, the humans were having their own conversation. Michelle said, “I just wanted to know how’s that new dog food was doing for your dog."
  “New dog food?” Mike questioned.
  “The stuff I recommended yesterday. I gave you a few cans…”
  "Oh, the stuff with the extra fiber,” Mike remembered, “I don't know just yet. I just started feeding it to him yesterday, and he loves it! But, I guess it’s too soon to tell. I was worried that moving to a new house was messing with his digestion or something because I noticed he wasn’t pooping as much. You know how dogs are about territory and stuff.,” He glanced and smiled at his dog standing next to him, unaware of the plight that ailed his stomach. “Maybe I was worried for nothing, I guess,” Mike shrugged. "Anyway, how’ve you been?"
  Flower asked Bandit, "Have you seen the walker today? I was so looking forward to going to the park."
  "N-no…I hadn't…seen him…" Bandit tried not to show his discomfort, but he couldn't help but wince at the twisting pain in his gut. He resisted the urge to squat, but his hind legs bowed against his will. It was getting harder to hide his need than to hold it off. "I was thinking he forgot about me."
  Flower sighed, “I guess he didn't get any of us today, I was stuck in my house all day waiting for him to show. Um…Are you okay?" She tilted her head questionably, "You don’t look so good."
  "I…uh…" his attention was split between talking and keeping his tail hole clenched. With every passing second the pressure in his colon doubled. He couldn't tell if it was gas or solid that was pushing so hard on his tail hole, but neither one was getting out. Try as he might, he couldn’t hold it. He froze as a chain of squeaky bursts slip out. Please, no one hear that, he prayed.
  "What was that?" Flower asked as she sniffed the air. "Did…did you fart just now?"
  "W-what?! No, no…I…I…” he struggled to say over another trumpeting ass burst. The air around them quickly started to smell like the house, and Bandit knew Flower noticed too. “T-That’s just the garbage…Yeah, Mike cooked some really bad stuff yesterday." More rank air blew out of him in low tones. Gestural gases were being pushed out to make way for the thick log trucking his way through his gut. Bandit's face burned with embarrassment, his ears going flat against his head. He wanted to run from that spot and hide somewhere but he couldn’t move lest he did the unthinkable right then and there.
  “Ugh, I hate it when that happens,” Flower commented, “Michelle does that all the time! I mean, much of what she cooks tastes great, but…”
  Bandit let her do the talking while he struggled with his unruly bowels. He fell to a full squat, his anus creeping open as the weight of the doughy turd he had been holding back for so long trucked forward before crowning past his cheeks. I can’t do this now, he thought. Not only was he in front of the girl he liked, but he was standing over a bed of Marigolds that Mike planted when they moved here. Mike hated when he pooped in the garden, but Bandit had no choice. All the while, he fought not to show the discomfort on his face as he listened to the tale of Flower’s owner’s cooking. “If you think Michelle’s a bad cook, you should see Mike. Some of his failures do taste good though,” Bandit said as he looked away to hide his lip curling up. He couldn’t help it for he was putting his all into trying to push the turd back in, but it was too far gone. There was no hiding it or stopping it at this point.
  “You should have seen what Michelle cooked yesterday. See, she was doing something with veggies, then everything went up I smoke…”
  Bandit was so happy that Flower was doing most of the talking because he couldn’t add much to the conversation with his attention split. He fought to hold on to the turd slipping his grasp, but it was a pointless fight. He wished he had crapped in the house; a tongue-lashing from Mike was better than embarrassing himself in front of Flower, but here he was. If he couldn’t stop might as well get it over with as stealthily as possible.
  The dark brown shit snake blew from under his tall with a flutter of crackling farts, his cheeks spreading by the sheer girth of the turd. Slowly, it fell onto the flowers and coiled onto the ground under him, pouring out of his stretched derriere non-stop. Bandit whimpered as his rear was stretched to breaking by the massive log. He couldn’t tell what was worse: the smell, or how much it was widening his poor asshole. Bandit dug his foreclaws into the grass as he strained to stop, but his bowels would not respond, needing more to void than to hold on. Little did he know, just how much crap he was holding all day until it started to come out. With a shart, the doughy brown cable broke off, but a new turd quickly started up again coiling on top of the previous pile, the mess pouring out of him like hot brown cement.
  Normally, he couldn't poop if someone was watching him, but here he was with the girl of his dreams looking right at him and he was shitting like no tomorrow. He wanted this to end, but he was nowhere near done. Log after log fell from his stretched back end, piling upon each other and building the stack of shit. Plant after plant was squashed by the massive loaves, their growth forever stunted.
  So far, Flower nor the humans hadn’t noticed what he was doing. Most of the smell was going downwind and Bandit managed to keep his farts quiet. As long as no one mentions anything, he was sure he was getting away with his defecation.
  “Are you okay?” Flower asked. “You seem distant.”
  “O-Oh…I’m fine!” Bandit quickly answered as he shat another heavy turd. “It’s just been a long day.”
  “At least you kept busy. Since the walker didn’t show up, I was bored out of my mind.” Flower started another rant about her day, giving Bandit the chance to focus on voiding his bowels. After unloading so much, he was starting to feel empty. Bandit thought he was nearly done until he felt an ominous gurgle from deep in his gut.
  “What was that?”
  “Just…just my stomach…I’m getting hungry,” Bandit answered. The tension built in his gut to critical mass. This was going to be big and loud. With all the will he had left, Bandit held what had to be the final log but it was intent on coming out. His tired muscles strained to follow his commands one last time for a few moments longer.
Suddenly, he heard Michelle say her goodbyes to Mike. “Oh, looks like we’re headed back to the house,” Flower said. She left the fence to follow her owner back to their home. I’ll see you tomorrow!” she called back to Bandit.
  “See ya,” Bandit said but did not move from his position. Mike also turned to leave. He called for Bandit to follow but did look back for him. If Bandit wasn’t following, Mike figured that he would play in the yard a little longer. Once Bandit was sure everyone was gone, Bandit gave in. With a groan of blissful relief, he gave up control of his bowels and let everything go. The last of the stinking logs blew out of his rear with a trumpeting shart that could outdo a truck horn. Fecal matter with the consistency of soft-serve ice cream poured out of his tortured hole nonstop. Bandit pressed down on the logs to speed them along and put an end to this. The pile under him grew and grew with the brown cables twisting and coiling on top, building it higher.
  Just when Bandit questioned if he would ever stop, finally, the deed was done. He had to stand up to finish the job. Suddenly his bladder which had refilled since its last emptying felt too full to wait any longer. He simply let go, watering the flowers as well as crushing them. He couldn’t believe how much better he felt. There was a relieving void in his bowels where pain was once overwhelming, and yet, his tailhole felt hot and sore from being stretched too far. How on earth he got away with that was beyond him, but he wasn’t about to question his luck.
  He looked down at the huge mound of steaming poop sitting atop a pile of marigolds.  The heap was wider than his head and taller than his hock. Each log had to be wider than his paw! Bandit couldn’t believe that all of it was once in his gut. Gone was the nice flowery smell of the garden, replaced by the stink of his waste. This was the main reason he was not allowed to poop in the garden. “Mike’s going to have a fit when he notices this,” Bandit sighed.
  Suddenly he heard Mike call for him again from the porch “Dinner!” Just like that, Bandit forgot about his day-long ordeal and the giant pile of shit in the garden. There was food to be had and Dog’s gotta eat after all!