I used to live in Atlanta. I had one of those senior-editor bosses who thought he could organize a rainy day... he really thought he could add symetry and bring order to everything he surveyed.

With a guy like that, you just know this is going to be good. Well, it is, for Mother Nature brought him to his knees, in front of eight witnesses. It was great -- for I was one of them. I couldn't have orchestrated it better. God does have a sense of humour.

I knew this dude socially, as well as in the workplace, and I'd occasionally hear about his little schemes of mastering life. One in particular, was the training of his big female Doberman, named Suzy. Suzy was incredibly smart, gentle, loved people, a Lab personality in a Dobe body.

Well, mixing two parts pride, and one part laziness, my former boss taught Suzy how to use the toilet. I can't quite remember if it was for both No. 1 and 2, but definitely for the solid chunky stuff.

It was a way for him to not be bothered taking her out every time she had to go. Sound good?

Well, it worked, I mean, we're talking plop plop, fizz fizz. Oh, what a full bowl it is!

So, I had forgotten this trick weeks after he had trained it into her, and was invited to one of his dinner parties.

The party went along OK, as things do. Suzy was being a huge ham, people couldn't get over how a big Doberman, with a reputation (by looks) as big as her teeth, daintily sampling everything from garlic bread, to cold cuts, stuffed clams, all sorts of human table food -- she was a varitable dispos-all.

We were talking gossip, and thinking of dessert, or leaving, whatever. All at once we heard this crying, whimpering like a teakettle. Then we noticed ... THE ODOR! The Bouquet, the aroma of Eau d'Septic Tank Backing Up!!!

It seems that all those non-canine goodies, those rich and spicy items, previously wolfed down, had caused Suzy to have the Hershey Squirts. I mean, we're talking monumental amounts of supercharged diarrhea. She went in to use the toilet, as per her programming, AND discovered that SOMEONE HAD LEFT THE LID DOWN!

Copious mounds and puddles of poop, with the consistency of oatmeal, were everywhere!

Doodoo pudding was on the lid, the bowl, oozing down the back of the tank, it looked like a mudslide had come by.

Well, I never saw my ex-boss so red.

He was torn between keeping the dog from tracking it everywhere, and figuring out just where his guests were going to go potty.

We all raided his rolls of paper towels. We let HIM clean it. We all just formed a line handing him clean towels, Lysol, water buckets, Pinesol, I forget what else.

-- Pete