Enough With The Anal Glands Already!
Filed under: Dog Shit, Dung of the Day, Greenpoint Magic, Williamsburg
I have been rather grumpy of late. This is due in large part to a seemingly never-ending series of pet-related maladies. First it was an abscessed anal gland. In treating that the veterinarian noticed the front of our cat wasn’t looking so good: this entailed having three teeth pulled. An appointment was made. Next it was two (other) cats getting ringworm. We are treating this with some level of success on our own.
After getting a deep cleaning of my own teeth (which entailed being given Novocaine) I hurried home (and in so doing got spritzed with cement) took a bath and ventured back out to retrieve our cat Artemis from having his teeth extracted. I was not in a good mood. So I arrive at the vet. As is usually the case I had to wait a good 20 minutes.
Then it was my turn. I am told the surgery went well and then the vet said:
That anal gland is healing nicely. Have you looked at it?
I took a deep breath and replied:
You are the second such person to ask me this question this week. The fact of the matter is I have looked at that cat’s asshole more in the last two weeks than I ever cared to. For a lifetime. If you and my husband say it is healing well I’ll take your word for it.
Believe it or not I think the vet understood. He thought it was funny in any case. He’s paid (handsomely, I will add) to look at this shit anyway. I am not. I seemingly cannot avoid this subject matter. It is follows me where ever I go. Those of you who are old enough might remember the old Tootsie Roll commercial: their cheerful protagonist saw Tootsie Rolls everywhere he (or she— cannot remember which) went. I see anal glands where ever I go— or are forced to talk about them. This is no way to go through life.
CASES IN POINT:
I have been wanting to get back to doing collages. I am not only good at creating them and I also enjoy the process. It relaxes me. To this end I needed material so I picked up this book at the junk shop. I get home and crack it open. Here is what I saw.
A few days later I went to dinner with a friend. She asked me how Artie’s anal glands were doing. I said “just fine”. Then she regaled with a tale about the time her old dog’s anal gland got backed up and the vet had to “drain it”. It seems like everyone has their own anal gland story and now I have mine. Lucky me.
This week I went out with a friend for a walk. As we were walking down North 12th Street I spied this.
Me: Hey look, another tree twat.
Friend: Tree twat?
Me: Someone has been going around Greenpoint and Williamsburg painting knot-holes pink, which lends them a certain “sexual” feel. I call them tree twats, although this one looks more like an anal gland.
Friend: It does?
Me: Yup, only less disgusting.
It was at this point I realized I had a problem. I needed to quit anal glands and move on. I needed closure (in more ways than one). So I decided to try a little art therapy on India Street.
Every dog has a pair of anal glands located on the sides of and just below the opening of the anus. These small glands secrete a lubricant which helps the dog move his bowels easily. Sometimes these anal glands become clogged and accumulate a putrid mass in side. When this happens, the dog becomes listless, his eyes appear dull, and he often tries to lick the anus or pull himself across the floor on his haunches for relief.
The Complete Poodle Clipping & Grooming Book by Shirlee Kalstone.
If you’re wondering if rabbits have anal glands: they do. Someone has even written a dissertation about them.