The dog might drag its ass, also known as scooting, for a variety of reasons. Here are just a few:
2. Irritation from passing firm stool
3. Anal sac disease including cysts
5. Rectal prolapse
6. Fecal contamination/matting (i.e. canine dingleberries)
7. Playfulness/whimsy (rarely)
The dog (and sometimes cat too) only knows or understands that its asshole itches. We assume it lacks the sense/rationale to discern the cause. We take it to the veterinarian who diagnoses it, suggesting a change of diet or prescribing medication or salve with instructions to closely monitor the asshole. Hopefully, through the education, deductive reasoning and guidance of the expert, the ailment heals.
Our lives can leave holes in us – holes not unlike itching assholes. We try to assess the emptiness and fill it by reason or faith or love or hate or by attachment or rejection. Sometimes we reason the cause of the hole is due to women or men or Jews or gays or whoever or whatever else doesn’t think and act like we do. Or who don’t appreciate us as much as we appreciate ourselves. And sometimes it’s a hard thing not to do….venerate yourself…..especially when the self’s about all you’ve got.
Other times we try to sooth the itch with God, sex, political commitment…..whatever. We self-diagnose without the meta-expertise of the veterinarian. Perhaps misogyny is just an application of a steroidal ointment when what’s really needed is a change in diet. Or a flea bath. Maybe God or a naive commitment to absolute reason’s just adding more fiber to a diet when what’s really needed is Milbemax (dewormer medication).
Maybe we’re just dogs with itchy assholes, with limits to self-knowledge and awareness and veterinary medicine that keep us scooting and swapping out identity and ideological attachments like underwear we finally admit we’ve grown too fat for. Or the holes become so big our balls are just barely contained anymore. So we stubbornly and begrudgingly exchange them for a new ones.
We’ve seen the veterinarian and the results of her reason. And, after all, we possess reason too. Enough reason to put laundry detergent instead of light bulbs or Rice Krispies in the washer to get our clothes clean. We assume that an application of a similar methodology should cure what ails us. But we are not the veterinarian, any of us. We are only the dog dragging its asshole across the shag carpet, leaving a shit streak and attaining temporary relief through the friction. Or another dog thinking, “If it was me, I’d be biting my asshole – not looking like a fool doing that silly stiff-legged carpet dance.” But, whether it’s hatred of women or men or Jews or, conversely, love of God or Ronald Reagan or money or pussy, it’s all just temporary relief – just like scooting.