Not-theDaddy says I have a "windy bottom"... I hope that's all it is and not my anal sacs filling up. I HATE getting them "expressed," which is a polite term for "forcibly squeezed open." It's a humiliating experience that last happened almost one year ago, when it was blissfully just me, Daddy and Not-the-Daddy living together. Here's what happened back then:
Daddy told me that if I didn’t run enough each day, my anal glands would compact, and I’d have to go visit the vet every once in a while. Apparently, running around wildly outside keeps all the plumbing running smoothly inside.
I hate this procedure. First of all, the vet has fat fingers. He was a football player in high school, so he never developed a velvet touch. He must have been a line backer with a seek-and-destroy mentality. It really hurts! At least his fingers are short…
As embarrassing as all this was, though, it was nice to have Not-the-Daddy around to hold me. She’s a sucker for doling out the pity, and dishing out extra potions of loving. She just kept hugging me during it all.
After the violation ended, she kept telling me how beautiful I was and how good I smelled now. That was a lie, but an appreciated one. I sure did stink, even for me Luckily, as soon as we got home Daddy took a wash cloth and wiped me down, down there. He was very kind, and even made sure the water was warm before he wet the cloth. I sure wish the vet had Daddy’s touch! Then he sprayed something on my butt… he said it was a "natural deodorizer." Anyway, it must have done the trick because Not-the-Daddy was all over me with mountains of babying and cooing. At least something good came out of all this.
Being cooped-up stinks. A hound dog’s gotta run free, not just for her spirit, but also for her anus!
Daddy told me that if I didn’t run enough each day, my anal glands would compact, and I’d have to go visit the vet every once in a while. Apparently, running around wildly outside keeps all the plumbing running smoothly inside.
I hate this procedure. First of all, the vet has fat fingers. He was a football player in high school, so he never developed a velvet touch. He must have been a line backer with a seek-and-destroy mentality. It really hurts! At least his fingers are short…
As embarrassing as all this was, though, it was nice to have Not-the-Daddy around to hold me. She’s a sucker for doling out the pity, and dishing out extra potions of loving. She just kept hugging me during it all.
After the violation ended, she kept telling me how beautiful I was and how good I smelled now. That was a lie, but an appreciated one. I sure did stink, even for me Luckily, as soon as we got home Daddy took a wash cloth and wiped me down, down there. He was very kind, and even made sure the water was warm before he wet the cloth. I sure wish the vet had Daddy’s touch! Then he sprayed something on my butt… he said it was a "natural deodorizer." Anyway, it must have done the trick because Not-the-Daddy was all over me with mountains of babying and cooing. At least something good came out of all this.
Being cooped-up stinks. A hound dog’s gotta run free, not just for her spirit, but also for her anus!
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