I was recently chatting with a neighbour who is, like me, both Welsh and the owner of an English Bull Terrier. He was describing a tricky situation that he'd been in recently when he noticed that his Bull Terrier was acting strangely; apparently attempting to bite it's own tail off. My neighbour took a closer look and, to his horror, saw that something pink and floppy was hanging out of the dog's arrsehole. Immediately worried that the dog was having a prolapse, or something similar, and that if it did manage to coil itself round enough it might actually succeed in eating it's own alimentary canal from the back end onwards, he reached for the phone to call the vet. But there was something odd about the pink flappy thing hanging out of the mutt, so he took a closer look and was relieved to see that it appeared actually to be a piece of fabric. Being a practical man, he decided now was the time to get the marigolds on, grab the dog and attempt his own veterinary intervention. Having suitably pre-medded the dog with a chewy bone, he caught it by the collar with his left hand while taking a hold of the pink flappy bit with his right. He gave the 'thing' an exploratory tug and was pleased to note that a. it seemed to move a little and b. the dog didn't seem to mind (as Bill Sykes found out in 'Oliver!' you don't want to p1ss these fÃ¼ckers off too much). Confidence rising, he gave the object a good tug and out it came, the canine anus snapping shut with a satisfying clang. The mystery object turned out to be a thin strip of shite-caked material about eight inches long and, at first, my neighbour couldn't imagine what the fÃ¼ck he was dealing with. After picking away some of the mutt-mud however, a grim realisation came over him: it was his girlfriend's Â£40 Janet Reger G-String which the hound had clearly snaffled off his bed a couple of days before and troughed at it's leisure, whilst he'd been giving the GF the good news. She hadn't been able to find it in the morning and they'd decided it must have got tangled in the sheets, or her clothes, or somewhere like that. Anyway, he picked off the big bits and gave it a couple of whizzes through the washing machine but was forced to admit that it remained too discoloured to return, although apparently it had retained much of it's original shape. Which brings me to the topic of this post. What unusual items have Arrsers recognised again after they've made the long voyage through their digestive tract? Peanuts, cashews and sweetcorn don't count: we've all seen it. I'm thinking more like the Mutton Bangalore Phall I once had in York which passed through me in an hour or so, apparently completely untouched by my digestion. Any top turd content stories out there?