Last week in the park, a small, violent dog kept sniffing the ass of a much larger, more docile dog. The sniff was aggressive and strangely confident; it felt incomplete existing only as an act of the nose. By observing the sniff, one would assume that at some point the small dog would either attempt to eat the ass of the large dog or, in the very least, bark into it. One would think that the small dog would follow the big dog around, until the big dog either fought back or gave in to whatever the small dog would want from the ass. One would assume all of this, because of the way the small dog’s face curdled when sniffing the big dog’s ass. The sniff was both commanding and searching, curious and determined. One would think that, if given the opportunity, the small dog would fully submerge and disappear into the ass of the big dog. Perhaps the small dog would live in it for a while. To assume this, one would have to be operating under the idea that the dog has ulterior motives to sniff ass, that dogs have ulterior motives at all. To assume a lot of this, one would have to entirely rule out the possibility that the small dog has a rich, complex, and ultimately gratifying inner world that satisfies itself on a scent experience alone. One would have to also rule out the other option: that the small dog doesn’t just sniff the other dog’s ass because he likes it. Either way, moments later, both dogs were separated by strong, determined tugs on their leashes from their respective owners and no one knows for certain if they would ever see each other again, and even if they were, if they would remember any of it.
Tadeu Bijos is a writer and filmmaker currently based out of Los Angeles. He likes cats, but is not a cat-person. You can follow him on twitter @jtbijos.