How a constipated Jack Russell told me a disturbing urban legend.
(From Misty's memoirs -told in her own words-....chapter 5)
One day I met a Jack Russell tied up by his lead beside a shop. The woman just thought I was sniffing his backside, but I was not merely doing that. I was gaining knowledge. When my eyes met his, I learned about a phenomenon I had never ever considered. At first, I was unsure whether to believe the tale.
"I am severely constipated." The Jack Russell confided.
Such things are never 'too much information' for a dog. We are interested in subjects many humans consider beneath them.
The woman became suddenly preoccupied with her own conversation involving a passing human, so the little dog and I managed to speak at some length.
"But I am quite happy about it," he continued, and shook himself to show me he was indeed well; "My sorry gastro-intestinal condition is all of my own volition."
"How can you be content with such a situation? And why doesn't your human fix that for you?" I asked, aghast.
"The lesser evil..." He replied. Then he drew closer to confide in me more intimately, and continued with his story.
"People don't always understand dogs," He said, "Dogs need to run as much as possible. They need work to do in the day in order to be truly happy."
I nodded in agreement. That was something I knew, and did daily.
"There are some exceptions," he went on, "For instance, 'lapdogs'...but mainly, it is so. Yet dogs are told to 'sit' and 'stay' and sleep on their beds, while pack leaders sit around on chairs, doing inscrutable things with desks; or worse -disappear altogether on extended hunting-trips, returning exhausted -and with no meat! -in the evening when it is dark.
"I am glad the woman doesn't do such things..." I remarked.
"She doesn't?" The Jack Russell exclaimed in amazement, "Then she is very unusual."
"Some have called her 'eccentric', and she never has much money," I added, but then shut up to let him continue his tale.
"These unfortunate dogs are then hitched up to short leads and walked briskly half-way around the block to do 'business'. The quicker they get it done, the quicker they are brought home again." He whispered, "It is a fact that many dogs get anal retention as a result -if they are intelligent. In order to experience the outside world, they repress the urge to defecate."
"....But I have fields.....and frisbees....and am free to poop where I like!" I blurted out; but he seemed not to comprehend what I meant. He had obviously never seen a frisbee....or a field.
"This habit can have shocking consequences. So that within a short time they find they can't poop even if they want to! So now do you see the sorry state I am in?"
I nodded in sympathy. Though I could never really understand.
Before we were pulled apart by leads going in different directions, the Jack Russell claimed his human was now giving him stewed apples and bran for breakfast -yet to no avail. The human had obviously underestimated his strong will for anal retention.
"I chase the faraway lights sometimes-" He called out over his shoulder as a farewell comment, "-There's nothing so annoying to humans as a dog who chases the faraway lights at two in the morning, but I try to confine that to Saturday nights only...."
The breakfast sounded delicious. Yet the tale sounded hellish -and probably fictional. I am now sure it may have been an urban legend.
It appeared to be a case of 'have a fabulous vegetarian breakfast, poop like glory, then stay inside a lot....or be frighteningly constipated, but walk more.'
_______________________________
By Misty.
Published by WagaLot publishing.
Printed by the Woman ....at night....when she's tired, or it's raining.
Copyright: Misty 2009.
(From Misty's memoirs -told in her own words-....chapter 5)
One day I met a Jack Russell tied up by his lead beside a shop. The woman just thought I was sniffing his backside, but I was not merely doing that. I was gaining knowledge. When my eyes met his, I learned about a phenomenon I had never ever considered. At first, I was unsure whether to believe the tale.
"I am severely constipated." The Jack Russell confided.
Such things are never 'too much information' for a dog. We are interested in subjects many humans consider beneath them.
The woman became suddenly preoccupied with her own conversation involving a passing human, so the little dog and I managed to speak at some length.
"But I am quite happy about it," he continued, and shook himself to show me he was indeed well; "My sorry gastro-intestinal condition is all of my own volition."
"How can you be content with such a situation? And why doesn't your human fix that for you?" I asked, aghast.
"The lesser evil..." He replied. Then he drew closer to confide in me more intimately, and continued with his story.
"People don't always understand dogs," He said, "Dogs need to run as much as possible. They need work to do in the day in order to be truly happy."
I nodded in agreement. That was something I knew, and did daily.
"There are some exceptions," he went on, "For instance, 'lapdogs'...but mainly, it is so. Yet dogs are told to 'sit' and 'stay' and sleep on their beds, while pack leaders sit around on chairs, doing inscrutable things with desks; or worse -disappear altogether on extended hunting-trips, returning exhausted -and with no meat! -in the evening when it is dark.
"I am glad the woman doesn't do such things..." I remarked.
"She doesn't?" The Jack Russell exclaimed in amazement, "Then she is very unusual."
"Some have called her 'eccentric', and she never has much money," I added, but then shut up to let him continue his tale.
"These unfortunate dogs are then hitched up to short leads and walked briskly half-way around the block to do 'business'. The quicker they get it done, the quicker they are brought home again." He whispered, "It is a fact that many dogs get anal retention as a result -if they are intelligent. In order to experience the outside world, they repress the urge to defecate."
"....But I have fields.....and frisbees....and am free to poop where I like!" I blurted out; but he seemed not to comprehend what I meant. He had obviously never seen a frisbee....or a field.
"This habit can have shocking consequences. So that within a short time they find they can't poop even if they want to! So now do you see the sorry state I am in?"
I nodded in sympathy. Though I could never really understand.
Before we were pulled apart by leads going in different directions, the Jack Russell claimed his human was now giving him stewed apples and bran for breakfast -yet to no avail. The human had obviously underestimated his strong will for anal retention.
"I chase the faraway lights sometimes-" He called out over his shoulder as a farewell comment, "-There's nothing so annoying to humans as a dog who chases the faraway lights at two in the morning, but I try to confine that to Saturday nights only...."
The breakfast sounded delicious. Yet the tale sounded hellish -and probably fictional. I am now sure it may have been an urban legend.
It appeared to be a case of 'have a fabulous vegetarian breakfast, poop like glory, then stay inside a lot....or be frighteningly constipated, but walk more.'
_______________________________
By Misty.
Published by WagaLot publishing.
Printed by the Woman ....at night....when she's tired, or it's raining.
Copyright: Misty 2009.
