Wednesday, March 7, 2012

Well that's something I didn't need to watch while I was eating.

For those of you who live on farms, have been raised on farms, have recently visited farms, or perhaps seen television documentaries about farm life, I'm certain you've been exposed to how itty bitty farms animals are made.  With this said, we city folk wouldn't know the first thing about how to grab a cow's - and as I type this I'm cringing - "tit" to milk the poor beast.  Really?  Milk doesn't miraculously appear in one of those plastic one gallon containers?  Amazing. 

So, you can imagine my dismay seeing my neutered dog's "excitement" when he encountered his first female canine species.  This isn't supposed to happen!  He was fixed for Pete's sake!  When Squeak, our dog, laid eyes on the love of his life, he was smitten.  Her name was Hershey, a rather large, chocolate colored Labrador Retriever who belonged to my sister-in-law.  Our little guy was a Lhasa Apso.  The size difference did not detract from his amorous intentions. When the dogs were together, he mounted her with such ferocity - and might I add - awkwardness, that I would stand in stock amazement watching the spectacle unfold before my very eyes.  I never witnessed such an ugly thing.  For the love of my dog, I felt he should have some privacy but the exhibition was so startling I couldn't look away.

Squeak was my sweet little puppy; the small, wallow-eyed, fluff ball that we brought home and raised as a 10 week old bundle of joy.  The pink, awful, stick thing that was flopping out between his legs was not supposed to be there!  And then, to add insult to injury, he could barely walk afterwards without hopping about in a strange, humping like motion.  He looked as if he wanted to jump into my arms and be rewarded for a job well done or perhaps even complete what he had started with Hershey.  Sorry, no can do.  I found myself running away from him.  Yuck!  Do we have a towel?  I'm not holding him in the truck after that nasty display of perversion!

After years of this, I tried my best to ignore his "tender moments" with his amore.  After all, the Labrador didn't seem bothered by it so why should I?  I learned to overlook the situation as best I could but there were times I still found it disturbing on so many levels for instance, while eating hot dogs, when older party guests would have to walk around the butt bumping dogs, or the day my 5 year old niece witnessed the event for the first time.  The mating ritual was difficult for this grown-up to watch none the less a kindergartner eating a bag of potato chips.

Since my sweet, horny little Squeak went to the happy humping heaven in the sky, I made the decision to get two new dogs to keep me company.  A male and a female.  Was I thinking clearly when I made this decision?  Apparently not.  Tank, my neutered male loves to hump everything (Word of caution: watch your legs when you enter the front door).  His small female partner, Tulip, is in a constant state of snarl warning him to leave her alone.  Then there's his favorite challenge, the massive St. Bernard which frequents the dog park on Thursday afternoons.  Have I mentioned that Tank is also a Lhasa Apso? If you're interested, I charge $1.00 to watch this intriguing match-up.

These thoughts settled upon me the other night as my husband and I became frisky before we fell asleep.  As we got heated, PJ's were being thrown off, blankets were tossed about, and the dogs were rudely pushed from their happy little sleeping spots and delegated to the bottom of the bed.  What must Tank and Tulip think of our mating ritual?  Do we watch?  Do we look away and give them some privacy? She's awfully hairy for a human being.  These two fools are the most awkward people in the universe.

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