Magic Dog Anus
We have these two parakeets as pets, and they get to fly around the house for a while every day. Well, I say "around the house" but in reality they mostly stay along one side, close to the windows. Fortunately this makes it easier when it comes time to pick up their shit. I was consoling myself this morning, as I scraped a small splodge of parakeet crap off the window sill, that, surely, other types of pet would be just as likely to deposit their shit in the house. Wouldn't they?
If I think back to my childhood days, and dog ownership, it's certainly the case that 99% of the time the dog crapped out in the garden. But, and here's the important point, on the rare occasions that it dropped its load in the house, the volume of crap would be more than you could squeeze from a parakeet in several years. Admittedly we didn't have the problem of having to pick up the shit when we took the dog for a walk because, as I said, the dog crapped in the garden, but it wasn't such a large garden that you could ignore the faeces and you would soon get to the point where you didn't so much walk in the garden as mince around it, picking your way between little piles of excrement in various stages of hardening. At that point someone (let's be honest, it was almost always my mum) would carry the shit by the shovel load into the house and flush it down the bog.
The major problem with this endeavor was that the shovel was made of flattish metal and the dog shit was sort of cylindrical, coming as it did from what I assume was a round-shaped dog's arsehole. Cylindrical things tend to roll off flat surfaces, especially if the things in question have been drying nicely for a couple of weeks in the sun, so it would be fair to say there was probably more shit distributed around the house that way. Oh, and the bog was at the front of the house, so the shovel-loads of shit would have to go through the kitchen, out into the carpeted hallway, past the front door and into the bog.
This led to the minor problem associated with the exercise, namely that at any point someone could ring the doorbell. You couldn't pretend not to be in, or walk away, because the door was one of those wonderful frosted glass things (that seemed like such a good idea before the UK government decided that we didn't want to lock up burglars any more), so you'd be standing there, frozen in mid-stride, a shovel full of shit in your hands, pondering your next move. Even if you managed to get the load down the bog, flush quickly and hide the shovel behind the door, you'd still greet the visitor upon opening with the sound of the toilet refilling and a deep and pervasive smell of dog excrement. I don't know what people thought, but they probably assumed we lived on a diet of Pedigree Chum. ("Jesus, did you smell that? What do those people eat?"
So I did indeed conclude that a few parakeet turds around the house still put me ahead of the average dog owner, especially as dogs tend to shit in the house when they ate something that disagreed with them, and then you're not talking turds but lakes of brown sauce. And forget cats - any animal that requires you to have a tray of its leavings permanently on display in your house can fuck right off as far as I'm concerned.
I also considered the issue of dogs, having just deposited a massive squelchy load on the sidewalk, now climbing up on the furniture, or even your bed, or dragging their claggy arses over the shagpile. But to be fair dogs seem to have these magic arseholes that close with no "debris", and that got me wondering how our great Creator managed to fuck up the design on us.
I mean, let's face it, we are kind of the top-of-the-line model when it comes to land-mammals. Dextrous, intelligent, reasoning, with all sorts of fancy capabilities, but He didn't give us the magic self-cleaning arsehole that he fitted on dogs! And, by the way, on just about every other mammal, as far as I can tell. When I buy a high-end S Class Mercedes (we're talking figuratively here) I expect to find all the bells and whistles that you'd find on the C Class, and probably a few more. I don't expect to find that a really useful feature which is present on just about every other vehicle on the road is absent from mine.
We are the S-Class of the mammalian world, but we have an exhaust mechanism from the dark ages that seriously needs updating. You doubt me? Then why does the toilet paper industry exist? Why can't we just drop the kids off at the pool like any other mammal and simply walk away? Fido can dump on the pavement and jump right on your bed but you try not wiping and you can forget all about those white undergarments, sunshine.
Sure, I fully understand why we were not given the capability of licking our own genitalia like dogs can; a lot of people would probably never leave the house otherwise. But I don't see any reason why we wouldn't benefit from the magic dog anus. All I can think is that the lobbyists for Charmin, Cottonelle and Scott are operating at a much higher level than we realized...
Copyright © 2009 Edward Bison
If I think back to my childhood days, and dog ownership, it's certainly the case that 99% of the time the dog crapped out in the garden. But, and here's the important point, on the rare occasions that it dropped its load in the house, the volume of crap would be more than you could squeeze from a parakeet in several years. Admittedly we didn't have the problem of having to pick up the shit when we took the dog for a walk because, as I said, the dog crapped in the garden, but it wasn't such a large garden that you could ignore the faeces and you would soon get to the point where you didn't so much walk in the garden as mince around it, picking your way between little piles of excrement in various stages of hardening. At that point someone (let's be honest, it was almost always my mum) would carry the shit by the shovel load into the house and flush it down the bog.
The major problem with this endeavor was that the shovel was made of flattish metal and the dog shit was sort of cylindrical, coming as it did from what I assume was a round-shaped dog's arsehole. Cylindrical things tend to roll off flat surfaces, especially if the things in question have been drying nicely for a couple of weeks in the sun, so it would be fair to say there was probably more shit distributed around the house that way. Oh, and the bog was at the front of the house, so the shovel-loads of shit would have to go through the kitchen, out into the carpeted hallway, past the front door and into the bog.
This led to the minor problem associated with the exercise, namely that at any point someone could ring the doorbell. You couldn't pretend not to be in, or walk away, because the door was one of those wonderful frosted glass things (that seemed like such a good idea before the UK government decided that we didn't want to lock up burglars any more), so you'd be standing there, frozen in mid-stride, a shovel full of shit in your hands, pondering your next move. Even if you managed to get the load down the bog, flush quickly and hide the shovel behind the door, you'd still greet the visitor upon opening with the sound of the toilet refilling and a deep and pervasive smell of dog excrement. I don't know what people thought, but they probably assumed we lived on a diet of Pedigree Chum. ("Jesus, did you smell that? What do those people eat?"
So I did indeed conclude that a few parakeet turds around the house still put me ahead of the average dog owner, especially as dogs tend to shit in the house when they ate something that disagreed with them, and then you're not talking turds but lakes of brown sauce. And forget cats - any animal that requires you to have a tray of its leavings permanently on display in your house can fuck right off as far as I'm concerned.
I also considered the issue of dogs, having just deposited a massive squelchy load on the sidewalk, now climbing up on the furniture, or even your bed, or dragging their claggy arses over the shagpile. But to be fair dogs seem to have these magic arseholes that close with no "debris", and that got me wondering how our great Creator managed to fuck up the design on us.
I mean, let's face it, we are kind of the top-of-the-line model when it comes to land-mammals. Dextrous, intelligent, reasoning, with all sorts of fancy capabilities, but He didn't give us the magic self-cleaning arsehole that he fitted on dogs! And, by the way, on just about every other mammal, as far as I can tell. When I buy a high-end S Class Mercedes (we're talking figuratively here) I expect to find all the bells and whistles that you'd find on the C Class, and probably a few more. I don't expect to find that a really useful feature which is present on just about every other vehicle on the road is absent from mine.
We are the S-Class of the mammalian world, but we have an exhaust mechanism from the dark ages that seriously needs updating. You doubt me? Then why does the toilet paper industry exist? Why can't we just drop the kids off at the pool like any other mammal and simply walk away? Fido can dump on the pavement and jump right on your bed but you try not wiping and you can forget all about those white undergarments, sunshine.
Sure, I fully understand why we were not given the capability of licking our own genitalia like dogs can; a lot of people would probably never leave the house otherwise. But I don't see any reason why we wouldn't benefit from the magic dog anus. All I can think is that the lobbyists for Charmin, Cottonelle and Scott are operating at a much higher level than we realized...
Copyright © 2009 Edward Bison
posted by Mr Bison at
9:13 AM
2 Comments:
Good to see you taking no prisoners with this post again Mr Bison.
I fully agree.
I've heard it said that if the developing world went through bog roll in the same way that westerners did then the rain forests would already be gone. I still can't understand why evolution has left humans as the only animal that is totally unable to lick it's own butthole clean of clag. Maybe that's why domestic cats were invented, so we could wipe our arses with them, and they lick them selves clean, at least, that's what happens in our house. They've got to earn their keep somehow.
A bear and a rabbit are taking a shit in the woods. The bear turns to the rabbit and says "Hey, Rabbit, do you find that shit sticks to your fur?" The rabbit replies "Why yes, as a matter of fact I do." Whereupon the bear picks up the rabbit and uses it to wipe his arse.
Jaggy, I think a cat would do just as well. I mean, that's surely the message from all those bog roll commercials with the fluffy kittens. "It's as soft as wiping your ringpiece on a little baby cat."
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