"My beautiful dog, my beautiful dog, my dear pooch, come closer and smell this excellent perfume bought from the best artisan in the city."
And the dog, its tail wiggling, which is among those poor beings, I believe, the sign that corresponds to laughter and smiling, comes closer and puts its humid nose against the uncorked bottle with curiosity; then, suddenly recoiling with fright, it barks at me in a manner of reproach.
"Ah! You miserable dog, if I had offered you a pack of excrements, you would have smelled it with pleasure and perhaps devoured it. In that way, you unworthy companion of my sad life, you are much like the public, to which one must never present delicate smells which irritate them, but carefully selected garbage."

-Charles Baudelaire, The Spleen of Paris.

This is one of the "short poems in prose" that make up Baudelaire's collection of short stories The Spleen of Paris and seeing this node immediately made me think of it. Now you know why your pets eat poop—they are simply mimicing human behavior.


According to French copyright law, Charles Baudelaire's works are in the public domain. Translation © me 2004.