"Nyah....nyah! Unnnnngh. Unnng. Nyah... Maaaaaaaahm!"
I heard Coco yelling to me from the open window to my room. I dropped my spade and my gardening gloves onto the lawn and yelled up to her, "I'm coming baby!"
I ran up the stairs and finally stood before her.
Coco had a look of utter defeat on her face. "I'm pushing...but nothing is coming out. I'm backed up like Bill Gates' hard drive. I'm packed with more logs than Lincoln's cabin."
I took her food dish out of the cage. "So you're constipated, Coco?"
"Did you not hear me? I'm wrecked. I'm completely bloated and cramped to hell."
"Do you want me to get you some prune juice with a splash of vodka?"
Coco looked up at me. "Double up on the vodka and we have a deal. Anything to get this bat outta hell, because I'm sittin' here like Meatloaf."
I reached into the cage and gently rubbed Coco's belly. "My my! You are awfully silly when you can't go poo poo, little girl."
"Don't you dare patronize me...because Mt. Vesuvius will erupt again, and I will aim for the walls."