The window was open, and I was sitting on the couch with my laptop doing some work. One wiener dog was perched on top of the sofa assiduously surveying the neighborhood. The other wiener dog was curled up by my left arm, napping. Then, SOMETHING HAPPENED. Either someone tried to break into the house, or something equally unacceptable occurred, like the flag across the street may have moved or a car door slammed three blocks away. Wiener dog one charged the window screen, barking fiercely. Wiener dog two, startled from her leisure, instantly heeded the call to vigilance, startling me as well. In her full fury, she rammed herself backwards with each powerful bark, shoving her little dog butt back into the edge of the computer.
And that, my friends, is how dog poop got on my laptop while I was typing.
I would have freaked-the-fuck out.
Having dogs means NEVER running out of sanitizing wipes and bleach. One also develops an unnaturally deep appreciation for non-porous surfaces.