Butt update

Just to be clear, we had an double anal sacculectomy (mmm, yummy) performed on Atticus, and it wasn't an elective surgery. His anal sacs were the size of golf balls and were chronically infected. Not having fishbutt anymore is just a bonus. Of course, like I said, the good old "fecal incontinence" thing might be a double bonus.

The animal hospital said it was very unlikely we would have this problem, especially as Addy apparently has a 'very toned anus,' (good for you Addy!) but we won't really know for two or three weeks. Until then, I am having a taste of what having a fecally incontinent dog would be like as he is very bruised and sore down there and so does not have fully operational capacities. I was petting him on the bed this morning when I noticed this spot of brown. That can't be poop, I thought! Well. . . . .I smelled it, and I WAS WRONG. I made Addy get up, and there were these little poop splotches all over the bed, like someone had taken a sponge, carved it into the shape of a dog anus, dipped it in poop, and done a little sponge painting. Well, actually, that's pretty much what Addy had done, only he skipped the sponge step. Why use a sponge when you've got the real deal? I suspected this anal leakage might mean a poop was coming, so I took Addy out in the yard. We can't just let him out there because he's not supposed to run around. So there I was, trailing Addy around the yard waiting for him to poop. He knew it was coming and had a panicked look in his eyes, probably because he knew it would hurt like a mofo. I could sympathize having felt the same way after giving birth. Then I imagined someone taking a scalpel to my butt and my sympathy doubled.

So anyway, I'm trailing him around, and keeping my eye on Lilli too. Finally I see the poop start to emerge, and Addy starts an hysterical poop dance. Unfortunately, it is very soft and stringy and is a 'hanger' if you know what I mean, and Addy is freaking out that he can't get the poop to drop. Imagine a long stringy turd flapping out of the butt of a frightened dog and you imagine the results: that's right, poopy legs and hindquarters. Finally, the flailing about flings the turd away and he continues the poop dance, waiting for what's to come. This time he manages a soft little pile and I am relieved that we're probably done. By now Lilli has taken an interest in the goings on, and so I am having to negotiate a poopy dog and try to keep Lilli away from the random piles of poop at the same time. I decide we had just better go back in, but at this point I see a poop start to slip out of Addy's butt without him realizing it. Two turds drop out before he figures out what's going on and trots back to his corner with me in tow to finish his business.

Finally I manage to get both the little knuckleheads back in the house, but now Lilli is PISSED that her outside play time has been cut short, and Addy is PISSED that I am taking a wet rag to his troubled behind. If anyone had told me three years ago that today I would spend the morning with a angry child hanging on my back and screaming in my ear while I scoured the poop residue from the swollen behind of my reluctant dog, I would have thought twice about this whole thing, dog and child.