There is no way that just happened.

I got shit on by squirrel. AGAIN.

I'm marked by the turd.

They must know me. They have a running joke. Shit on the girl with tattoos.

I was walking Grubb this morning and I felt something glance off my shoulder from the trees. I thought to myself, That felt eerily similar to... Then I looked up. Not a wise move in retrospect. But there it was a god damned squirrel. It shit a couple more times after that. At least, I think it was the same squirrel. Or they had a platoon out that was full of snipers aiming for my tired, feeble body. At a time when I'm least protected too. What if that turd had gone down my shirt? I had been sleeping in a wife beater and I put on shorts in a hurry because Grubb scratched on the door. That usually means: THIS IS AN EMERGENCY, at 7:30. But it wasn't. Maybe Grubb is in on it too. Scratch that, don't tell him I said that. I actually think they were trying to hit Grubb on that last assault. It did a piss poor job. Why can't the one with shitty (HA!) aim try to shit on me?