People love their pets. It's no mystery. They are part of our families. In America, there have been lots of sociological studies on this phenomenon. But lesbians...lesbians and their dogs..."Phenomenon" isn't a big enough word to describe the bond between a lesbian and her dog. And the neighbor's dog. And the dogs in the dog park, on Animal Planet, in the shelters, in the cars next to them in traffic, in the veterinarian's office, at the pet store, in dog food commercials...on the Iditarod trail...
You get the idea.
If you ever want to see a lesbian freak out and fall apart, make her watch the SPCA commercial with Sarah McLachlin singing, "In the Arms of an Angel"...I don't care how butch a lesbian she is...you are going to need a box of tissues and a grief counselor to help her pull through.
From poodles to Mastiffs, and everything in between, I have never seen such devotion as that which exists between a lesbian and her dog. Or dogs. Back in my day, lesbians seemed to gravitate towards certain breeds of dogs. Like, dogs that were part wolf, and named "Sirius" or "Midnight" or "Shadow Whisper." Nowadays, you can find lesbians in love with Chihuahua's named "Chicken," "Kowboy," Or "Pucky."
I don't think I know a single lesbian who wouldn't go hungry so that her canine companion, whatever the variety, could eat. The bonds are incredible.
I was dog sitting for a straight couple, who are good friends of mine. The dogs I was caring for were a boxer, and a German Shepard mix. They were both stressed about being with a new person, as well as with being away from their beloved humans. They also had a history of skirmishes. Fortunately for me (and for them), when they started a battle to the death over a squeaky toy, I had a lesbian friend from Kansas visiting. She knew her way around dogs.
While I yelled, "No! Stop it! There's more than one rubber squeaky frog in the world!"...and tried desperately to pull them apart through snarling teeth and snapping jaws...while I ran to the fridge and pulled out bacon, throwing it at them directly from the package...while I hysterically squirted them with the kitchen sink nozzle...my friend calmly grabbed a thin aluminum baking pan, and with a resounding "NO!!!" smacked the Shepard on top of the head. The sound caused her to release her grip, and my friend dragged he away from the boxer and put her outside. Unfortunately, the boxer had been bitten pretty severely, and was bleeding badly.
My friend immediately started tending to her wounds, and calling instructions out to me. As I surveyed the tile floor, covered in water, bacon grease, tufts of fur, drool, and drops of blood, I did what any self respecting lesbian would do in a K9 crisis. I promptly threw up and passed out.
My poor friend then did what any REAL self respecting lesbian would do in a K9 crisis. She made sure I was alive, then stepped OVER me to get a towel, wrap the boxer up, and take her to the emergency vet in her new $30,000 truck. A $1400.00 later, the dogs' owners were obviously distressed...and also at the end of their rope. They knew the Shepard dog, Chloe, would be nearly impossible to re-home given her aggressive tendency with other dogs (this wasn't the first incident). After a lot of consideration, and through a long distance phone call they mentioned the possibility that they might have to have Chloe "put down"...
So, my poor friend, who had just been trying to visit me (and had just cleaned dog blood from the upholstery of her new $30, 000 truck) did what any self respecting lesbian would do. She promptly adopted Chloe and took her back to Kansas with her.
Of course, Chloe's owners had forgotten to mention that Chloe had allergies to Rye grass and barked at thunder. She now lives happily in...uh...Kansas (Rye grass and thunder capital of the world)...where she is so hopped up on doggie Benadryl and valium that, during those RARE thunderstorms, she is sprawled out- barking into the carpet.
She is also my friend's companion and total buddy now. My friend is a chef, and bakes her homemade doggie biscuits, and takes her everywhere in her new $30,000 truck. If Chloe had opposable thumbs, I'm sure my friend would also take her on long motorcycle rides through the wheat fields. I'm still expecting to hear that she has her own side car, helmet, and dog goggles.
Dog goggles is a good name for a lesbian rock band.
Anyway, Chloe is in a one dog household now. Of course, my friend also had 4 cats (lesbians and cats is a whole other blog entry), so the cats did have to establish the pecking order upon her arrival. Chloe knows her place...which is in my friend's lap when she is trying to read. Of course!
Thank goodness for my friend. Chloe hit the doggie jackpot. She was adopted by a self-respecting lesbian. I, on the other hand, almost had my membership card revoked.
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| Chloe at her new home in Kansas...this time I was visiting |
So, if you encounter a lesbian and her dog....and the dog doesn't like you...do what I do. Scream and throw bacon. At the dog. Not at the lesbian.
Everyone knows lesbians are vegan.
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