It’s bird, it’s a dog, it’s a hairball named Rufus!
It is with great regret that I divulge my topic for the week. I really do like to please my readers, all 12 of them and I don’t imagine hairballs are at the top of anybody’s list of enticing subjects.
Oh well, it is not like this is a democracy. If I could, I would be dictator of the world, but as it is, I will have to be satisfied with ruling my own domain. Well, at least the one on these pages, for I have begun to suspect that the one at home has been usurped by my better half. That is what the dogs tell me anyway.
Bezoar is the proper name for a hairball. One could also be called a trichobezoar if you are a stickler for technical terms, which give me a bellyache. Must be why I have stomach problems once a week.
A British woman in 2004 had a five-pound hairball removed from her stomach that was 14 inches long by 10 inches wide by 4 inches deep. I don’t know if they named it when it was delivered but if not, they missed a nice opportunity to have some fun.
They could have dressed it in a little nightie and cooed at it while it lay there hairballing, OK, making light of another’s affliction is not funny, so I’ll stop. It’s just so hard to be good sometimes.
Trichophagia is a mental condition that drives you to eat your own hair. Funny thing is the male to female ratio for this odd problem is 1:14 and women are 90% more likely than men to develop a troublesome ball of hair in their tummy. So, if you get the urge to insult someone by calling them a hairball, don’t look at me, pick one of your lady friends.
That whopping ratio is probably due to more women having hair long enough to chew on unless it could really be true that we drive them to distraction a little more often than they drive us. I guess women are a little more feline than men and cats are the masters of the hairball. on the reverse side, men often examine their canine side and will scratch their rumps anytime it even pretends to itch. Of course, the itch isn’t caused by a hairball either.
Bezoars have been highly prized by sorcerers, witchdoctors, and other masters of the occult since the beginning of man. They are great for getting an especially pesky spell to work. A positive side effect of this need for hairballs is, ta da, you have to keep a lot of women around, so you have a steady supply. Heh, heh, heh, boy am I gonna get it.
Hair cannot be digested or passed through the digestive tract. This is true for a very good reason, (Duh!) you are not supposed to gobble it!
Problem is, I think every normal person eats a cup or so of hair every year, just by accident. I find it on my food more often than I like, and it is beginning to make me nervous. I think we are all walking around with hairballs in our innards.
Will that mean that all the men will begin to explore their feminine side?
Or maybe that swarms of witches will start making an appearance, waiting for someone to hawk up a useful bezoar?
I’ll bet if I was willing to do the disgusting research, I could get a government grant to study this dilemma.
I don’t think my girlfriend wants me hanging around that many women though.
At least that is what the dogs tell me.