Gross Stuff Humans Do With Dogs

I’ve been book-writing, not thinking about blogging so much, but now my friend Xavier, whose blog you can find here, has sort of demanded that I file a post about Gross Stuff Humans Do With Dogs.

This all started when I posted a picture of Mickey’s butt on Facebook and Twitter.  Here is the picture of Mickey’s butt for anyone who missed it.

I know.  Delectable, right?  Kind of gives me weird impulses.  To gnaw on those little tucked-under legs, for example. Which isn’t very logical considering the things that come out of the butt between those legs.

This is going to get a little graphic.

Mickey resembles a cow.  Not just the big splashy brown spots.  He grazes.  Daily.  Some dogs and cats will eat grass when they have an upset stomach.  They chomp some grass then vomit and feel better.  I think this is what people do when tripping on mushrooms, but I actually wouldn’t know.  I tried hallucinogens five different times and NOTHING HAPPENED.  Apparently, I am already weird enough.

My dog is weird too. He eats grass not to vomit, but because he likes grass. He doesn’t digest it very well though and it comes out the other end. Very slowly.

This is going to get a little more graphic (Hi, Xavier.)

Sometimes, Mickey takes a crap and cannot fully eject the snarled clods of grass.  Then, I have to find a big leaf, wrap it around my hand, and pull the grass out of his ass.  It’s okay when we’re in the woods.

In the woods

I fling the sullied leaf to the side, wash my hands in a creek.  It’s less okay when we’re walking in town.

There he’ll be, in the position, on a semi-crowded street, with a very long brown and green THING hanging out of his ass.  In those instances, I have to take a plastic poop bag from my pocket, and use it to PULL.

In town

I never look around when this happens. I know that people who know me have seen me doing this. And I do not wish to know who they are.  Please remain anonymous.

There is a lot of other stuff.  And I could go into what goes on with horses.  Watching vets with their entire arms up a horse’s junk.  Watching my own mother like this.

But I think this is enough.

I think I’ve made my point for Xavier, who will not be gnawing on the backs of Mickey’s legs anytime soon.

Back to work. All of you.

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