An@l Sacs

My friend's too-old-to-still-be-living shih-tzu, Mitzy, is disrupting my peaceful vacation. Last night, I invited Billy over to watch videos. We were enjoying the wonderful storyline of Hellraiser (oh shut up!) when in walks Mitzy, giving off these little half yelp/bark noises, directed specifically at her own butt. Yes, a shih tzu barking at her butt is quite entertaining, let me tell you what. Every time she would try to sit down she would be unable to successfully sit as apparently her butt was not cooperating, thus causing the barking. This was followed by the disgusting rubbing of her bottom across the carpet. Billy became oh so very concerned about the dog, however, since I have often stood in front of a three way mirror in a swimming suit, bathed in the glow of department store fluorescent lights and often felt like barking at my own butt, I was not too overly distressed about the situation. Billy just would not shut up about the damn dog, insisting that we take her to a vet immediately to be evaluated by an animal care professional. His concern was touching, truly it was.

To put this all in perspective, let me just take a moment to relate an incident that happened last summer. Billy and I were involved in a minor car accident when a 16 ton suburban assault vehicle (known as an SUV, and I'm not even going to get into why the hell people need to drive those things when they live in the suburbs, trying to be all cool, when really we all know it's just a minivan in disguise) ran a red light and smashed into the hood of the car, causing my head to crash into the passenger window. Luckily my thick and resilient cranium took most of the impact, resulting in much blood pouring out of my head, blood that should be securely inside of my head normally. Billyís first words were, ďoh my god, my car!Ē. He proceeded to get out of the car and started talking with the other driver, assessing the damage, all the while Iím sitting in the vehicle trying to hold five years worth of accumulated Taco Bell napkins on my scalp laceration. I finally decide to get out of the vehicle to sit on the curb, when Billy finally notices me sitting there bleeding. His next statement is such a classic: ďOh my god, youíre bleeding. You didnít get any on the upholstery, did you?Ē Seriously. The boy drives a 1988 Toyota Celica with no working gauges or air conditioning and heís crazy mad worried about the upholstery. What a freakiní derfwad.

Off to the vet we go, me, Billy, and a butt-barking shih tzu named Mitzy. Fun times indeed. Get ready for the diagnosis, it only gets more unsettling, as it involves a little something called an@l sacs. Yes, you did read that last sentence correctly. See, as the vet explained, normally the an@l sacs are about the size of a kidney bean and difficult to feel beneath the skin surrounding the rectum. As they become impacted they increase in size until they feel like grapes or walnuts beneath the skin. Are you with me so far? The vet goes on to explain how to express the glands. Itís easy, he says, you just put a finger on each side of the rectum on the outside edges of the an@l sacs. You then press towards the rectum, up and inward to trap the sacs and out comes the secretion. It involves latex gloves and KY jelly and needs to be performed once a day. Yeah, I really donít want to have any part of that, thanks. Not my dog, sorry. Billy cheerfully agrees to perform the task. He is a big giant freak who is ever so slightly unhinged.

Fast forward to the next day, time to express the glands! I go find the dog, Billy gloves and lubes up, and I feel like I am trapped in some sort of demented animal porn movie. Dog successfully located, though seems to sense some sort of horrible violation is about to take place. All systems go. I notice at this point as Billy is applying the rectal cream to his finger, he has rather large hands, even for a guy, and this dog weighs maybe 8 pounds, so this is so not going to work. I explain to Billy that we are not re-enacting a prison rape scene with my stepmotherís dog, so please donít use the index finger, try that cute little pinkie my friend. Of course, heís all pissed off and starts to remove the glove. Itís at this moment that Mitzy, perhaps realizing her impending molestation, tries to bite me, I scream, she makes a break for it, bumping into the degloving Billy, causing him to get medication in his eye. How? Heís talented. The dog is now terrified, hiding under a bed, while Billy has run into kitchen, putting his whole head under the faucet, all the while screaming, ďIím blind, Iím blind, Iíve got dog an@l medication in my eye.Ē What a crybaby.

2002-07-01 at 10:10 a.m.