Absolutely Not Normal

Image from Dog Training Works

Remember the Tiger Woman who fed her dog fruits and vegetables then wondered why the dog pooped so much? Well, there was an interesting incident with her at the park this weekend.

Tiger treats her dog, Bijon, who is in fact a Bijon, like a child - a porcelin child that farts honeysuckle and speaks six romance languages. She brings the severely ADHD Bijon everywhere, toting a diaper bag filled with toys, wipies, sweaters, snacks and anything else the dog may need given several unlikely situations.

Bijon was running a muck when he yelped and began to limp. Anyone who has a dog, would tell you this happens from time to time and is usually nothing to worry about. As soon as little Bijon yelped, Tiger ran over with her doggie med kit but was crying too hard to check if Bijon was injured. She wanted to rush the pup to the emergency vet but the park peeps advised her to let him try to simply walk it off, which Bijon did within ten steps. Tiger slowly began to recover.

About half an hour later, we were seated on the bench chatting when Tiger had a question: "Is it normal for Bijon to ejaculate blood?" Come again? No, actually do not cum again if it is going to be bloody. We gave a definitive "no" and informed her that neutered dogs should not be ejaculating at all, let alone blood. When asked how long this had been going on she replied, "Oh, about 6, maybe 9 months." What??? Why hadn't she taken this dog to the vet? I'm pretty sure I would have been in the office within five minutes of the first blood-filled squirt. What type of person freaks out over a slightly tweaked leg but doesn't take her dog to the vet when he ejaculates blood?

I'm starting to think mandatory sterilization is a good thing. This lady should not be permitted to have children, watch children, be around children...maybe even look at children.

Pet of the Week - Squirrel

Squirrel is the man - er, the dog. I met him at the park last week; his foster mom brought the little dude for some rompage. Squirrel played like a maniac with his dog pals then just chilled with the humans for some cuddle time. He loves to have his belly rubbed so much that when you say hi to him, he automatically rolls on his back and shuts his eyes in preparation for complete bliss. This picture doesn't quite do him justice - he is absolutely absurdly adorable, with a whimsical personality that charmed everyone at the park.

If you live in SoCal, check out Squirrel and other Much Love Dogs. If not, or in addition, search Petfinder to locate a Squirrel-like pup in your hood.

Does Fido Feel Regret?

Image from eHow

When we first got Scout, every time we left her alone she would find something to tear into a million pieces and scatter around the apartment. When it was an old brochure or tissues from the bathroom garbage, we weren't that upset. But when it was our journal from a trip to Israel or a sentimental favorite book, we were. And Scout knew this. She'd put her tail between her legs, pull her ears back and hide under the bed in shame.

But, did Scout actually feel conscious regret? Or was she merely giving a sign that she messed up, something perhaps just evolutionary? This is the topic of an article in this week's New York Times Science section. Recent experiments have resulted in moping coyotes, second-guessing monkeys and eye-covering tigers.

While I doubt that Scout feels human-like regret, in the sense of deep contemplation and even depression, I do think she feels something. When a dog at the park is playing too rough, the others will let him know by either recoiling and ignoring him or going at him aggressively. This generally results in the the offender slouching and withdrawing to the perimeter.

Marc Bekoff, a behavioral ecologist at The University of Colorado, noticed this same phenomena with wild coyotes, adding that if the animal did not show this regret, the others would not let him back into the group. In the wild, this would cause the animal to be left alone, therefore decreasing its chance of survival. So, even if animals do not contemplate like we do, they at least know what is right and wrong and feel some form of regret when they screw up.*

*I think cats may be the exception to this notion. Dave's parent's cat regularly shits in their sink then waits nearby and gloats when the turd has been discovered. My friend's cat routinely tears down all the curtains in her house then pisses on them. Instead of sulking or hiding, the cat actually leads my friend to the destroyed curtains, as if saying "Go out again; I dare you." Cats are some freaking pissy biatches.<sup>†

†</sup> Not Fred Holop, who was da bomb

Awesome "Best in Show" Clip

I love Christopher Guest and "Best in Show" is my favorite of his movies. This is not because the movie is about dogs, but because it is about people obsessed with their dogs. And while people obsessed with any one thing - Pickleball, JTT, The Weather Channel - are funny, dog obsession makes me feel better about my treatment of my own dog.

Dave thinks I am ridiculous with Scout; namely because I feel absurdly guilty leaving her, I incorporate her into as many of my daily activities as possible and I often roll around on the floor with her pretending to be a dog and exchanging kisses.

This movie proves that though ridiculous, I am not obsessed. Yes, the movie is indeed fiction, but it is completely based on reality and the exaggeration is actually pretty minimal. The following people visit the dog park on a regular basis: a woman who cooks filet mignon and rack of lamb every day for her poop-eating (literally, the dog eats turds) Wheaton Terrier; a man who gives his Beagle aromatherapy facials; an unemployed writer who dresses her Maltipoo in Burberry.

Pumps at the Park

A woman showed up at the park the other day with 4" heels on. Why would you do this? After much thought, I came up with some scenarios:

1. You went home with a guy you don't know or have only recently started seeing. Since it is too early into the relationship to keep clothes at his place you are forced to go home in what you wore the night prior. But you don't go home - you sit in his foodless apartment and pick at your nail bed while trying to make conversation. He suggests taking his dog to the park. You jump at the opportunity to be with him but have something concrete to look at and talk about. You put on the pumps, cringe due to the blisters you acquired slutty dancing to Lady GaGa and head to the park, where you break said pumps by falling when using a Chuck-It Launcher.

2. You are training to be a Chuck-It Launcher model (which does not pay but may lead to other dog toy model jobs).

3. Since you don't want to display your cheesey chick lit, you store that genre in the oven you never use. When climbing on the counter to reach the out-of-reach-on-purpose chocolate cabinet, you accidentally hit the oven on. Shortly thereafter, the kitchen is in flames. You spend so much time getting your completely unique Ikea picture off the wall that the only other item you have time to grab are the pumps. The whole place burns to the ground. Though friends and family have since stepped in to provide food, shelter and alternate shoes, you are attached to the pumps for sentimental reasons and refuse to take them off until you find a new place, at which point they will be bronzed, encased in glass and hung on the wall next to the saved Ikea piece.

4. You are a Craigslist weekend escort.

I am 80% sure #4 was the case(Chuck-It Model also quite plausible)in the pumps at the park mystery. The woman was a 20-something Latino in a revealing skirt and top; The man was a 60-something Caucasian dressed like someone trying to dress like someone who was about to board a yacht. He probably never made it to a yacht that day but I bet he did do some motorboating.

The Welcome Committee

Imagine approaching your door after a long day of work and seeing your five favorite friends there to welcome you home. Now imagine they are holding out El Cholo Gran Tradicional Margaritas for you. And your apartment has as an Austin Powers rotating circle bed and a rock and waterfall pool--filled with naked models massaging your shoulders and serving no-calorie In-N-Out burgers. Now multiply that happiness by twenty. You are still not nearly as excited as these dogs.

Dogs Just Want to Have Fun

When I picked up Scout this weekend from Big Scout's house across the street, she was ecstatic to see me. She jumped into my arms and gave me loads of smelly kisses. She sprinted back to our apartment and ran in like a lunatic. She sniffed all around and checked all the rooms (not a big feat given the size of my apartment). After that she went back to giving me smelly kisses. My popularity soared for about an hour or so.

Shortly after that hour, Scout went out on the balcony, stared across the street and whined. She proceeded to the door and did the same thing. I figured she had a tummy ache and was telling me she was about to poop her non-existent doggy pants. I put her leash on, opened the door and she started pulling. Thinking she really had to go, I ran down the stairs and to the sidewalk along with her. But when we got to the sidewalk she didn't stop to find a patch of grass to go on. She continued pulling and led me (Caesar would not approve of her being the pack leader)across the street. It was clear that she was headed for Big Scout's house. I was no longer entertaining. She wanted her friend back.

At first I was slightly insulted; how could she trade me in for another buddy so readily. But upon much deep pondering, I realized I'm like her mom, not her cool older sister. Of course she'd want to play with someone her age who shares her interests (poop,squirrels and poop). As a kid, I did the same thing after sleepovers. I'd be super psyched to return home. I'd open all the cabinets to make sure my favorite snacks and toys were still there; I'd lay on my bed and stare up at the ceiling I'd seen so many times before and take a deep sigh of relief. But, after the five minutes that took, I'd realize my house was completely boring and that I wanted to go back to my friends. One summer I even made my parents pick me up at sleepaway camp, only to ask them to bring me back the next day.

So, Scout's inclination was natural. I guess I just need to accept that I'm officially a boring adult whose interests have changed from the poop and squirrels of my younger years.

Hungry Like the Wolf - Literally

The owner that named her Bijon Bijon resembles Jocelyn Wildenstein, aka "Tiger Woman," aka "The Bride of Wildenstein." She has had more plastic surgery than Michael Jackson and has lips six times the plumpness of Angelina Jolie. It seems she does pretty much nothing all day every day, besides injecting botox and undergoing silicon-based operations.

In an attempt to find meaning and purpose in her life, she decided to get a dog. It did not, however, dawn on her to read anything or ask anyone about owning and caring for one. I recently had the following conversation with her:

Tiger Bride: How often do you walk Scout?
Me: Usually about four times a day.
Tiger Bride: That’s it? Bijon has to go out constantly.
Me: Is he sick?
Tiger Bride: I don’t think so, I think he just has a fast metabolism.
Me: What do you feed him?
Tiger Bride: Oh, the usual, so carrots, peapods, broccoli, peppers. And he loves fruit too: apples, mango, kumquat – kumquats are his faaaaavorite.
Me: I think I know why he has to poop so much – that’s way, way too much fiber. Dogs should eat mainly meat.
Tiger Bride: Really? I’ve never fed him that.
Me: They are descendents of wolves so you may want to look into it.
Tiger Bride: Wolves? My Bij Bij baby is not a big scary wolf!
Me: Not anymore.
Tiger Bride: What do you give your dog? Chicken Paillard? Roasted Quail? Filet?
Me: Dog food.

If she was able to move her face, the look on it would have been priceless.

Labia Leverage

Today at the park, Big Scout and Little Scout had a role reversal. Little Scout is usually the dominant one, the one in control between the two. But this morning the tables turned when Big Scout made a new friend, Boston Terrier Mo. Little Scout not did approve of the relationship because Mo was taking the attention she usually received. Not used to being left out, Little Scout tried her best to get into the wrestling but it was clear that three’s a crowd. Ear biting, growling, smacking, none if it could take Big Scout’s attention away from Mo and return it to Little Scout. So, the Chihuahua/Terrier/Pug/Pinscher/Monster did what she had to do: hump.

What’s interesting is that I saw a human female do the same thing at a bar last night (no actual dry humping but some fondling). In fact, I have seen many women doing this throughout my time in NY, Boston, Philly, LA and London. Women using their womanhood to garner attention seems to be a trend throughout the US and perhaps the world. I’ve seen girls making out with multiple guys, girls making out with girls and girls dancing just a little “Too Close” in order to get attention. The thing is, like Little Scout humping Big Scout, it has nothing to do with sexuality, but everything to do with dominance.

Not to argue in favor of the whores out there, but if you think about it, women using their body to get attention from men, is a feminist notion.* Whereas women used to prim and properly wait for men to come to them, these women are actively seeking the men and objectifying them, instead of the other way around. We’re using our bodies to manipulate their bodies (penis more exactly) which in turn manipulates their (one-track) mind. This reverses the traditional relationship and puts the female in control. If men are going to judge us based on our breasts regardless (which they always will), why not rub those breasts in their face and use them to undermine men? OK, maybe don’t literally rub them in their face, just wear a V-neck or something, you get the point. All I’m saying is, maybe it’s time to use our cleavage to get control, labia to get leverage and areola to get authority...or maybe just do some "too close" dancing.

*Most actual feminists do not agree with anything I have written above. New York Magazine writer Ariel Levy says the concept of women using their lady parts for attention would "likely have caused their feminist foremothers to vomit." Though she was specifically referring to things in the Girls Gone Wild realm, which I am in no way promoting here, as blatant flashing at mass crowds is much different than grinding with one person.<sup>†

†</sup>Feminists would REALLY disagree on this one.

Overheard at the Park

"When my dog's anal glands get full I just milk them myself"

My Quick Comments:
1. This is disgusting and reminds me of Stiffler during the sperm bank scene in Road Trip (Yes, I know his name is not Stiffler in this movie but he will always be Stiffler in my book)
2. This was said by a seemingly normal woman that looked like pre-Idol Kelly Clarkson: Kelly Clarkson's anal glands must have needed a cleaning here because she looks like poop.

3. Who announces this to the world? I don't even tell my dentist I don't floss regularly out of fear of judgment.
4. This seems like something only a professional should do - leave it to the Anal Gland Milkers. Would you go to your plumber for a gynecological exam? They clean pipes but that doesn't mean they should clean your pipes.

Regulation Contemplation

The main dog park regulations are as follows:

1. Watch your dog at all times
2. Pick up after your dog with the shovels provided
3. Do not bring food into the park
4. Remove your dog from the park if it is harassing another dog or playing too aggressively
5. Remove your dog from another dog’s back if it is humping
6. Do not bring unaltered dogs into the park (Refer to #5 for explanation)
7. Do not use the park to solicit your own business
8. Be angered by Puppy Mills (This is really just essential to making park friends, but you should be angered by Puppy Mills anyway)
9. Do not use the park to solicit your own business, which happens to be a Puppy Mill (This happened)

Here are some rules I think should be added:

1. If you are over the age of 65 and sitting on a bench with someone under the age of 45 (26 to be exact), “lube” is not an appropriate topic
2. If your dog is playing with my dog, that does not mean we need to talk. Our dogs liking one another in no way correlates to us liking one another (actually it sadly does because we are all dog-loving losers with nothing else going on in our lives to talk about otherwise)
3. If you let your dog unabashedly hump my dog, my dog is allowed to bite (Ok, growl, Scout would never bite) your dog
4. Do not bring any sort of special bone or toy into the park if your pooch is not ok (or you, because it is usually the owner that gets upset) with it getting taken away and either torn apart or buried, because it inevitably will
5. If you leave your dog in the little side of the dog park (most parks have a section for big guys and one for little guys) and go elsewhere and it humps or attempts to bite my dog, I will simply drop it over the fence into the big dog area, where it will either be trampled or eaten
6. Please don’t name your dog Bijon if it is a Bijon – that’s like naming your kid Kyd (as David Duchovny did)
7. While it is ok to come to the park after 1 or 2 drinks, it is not appropriate to come after 16 (There used to be a woman who routinely fell off the bench and slurred more than me on the night pictured below)

Un-Sunny Side Up

The various people personalities at the park are just as entertaining as the dog personalities. And just as the different pooches clash, so do their owners. Most often, people fight about their dogs – how to train them correctly, when to get them neutered, which vet to take them to, etc. But just sometimes, some awesome times, park patrons fight about something other than dogs. Since owning a dog is the only real thing connecting these people to one another there is actually a lot to disagree about. I’ve heard plenty of conservatives and liberals fight over economic policy; I’ve seen two people yell about which movie won the Oscar in 1979 (he said Witness, she said The Color Purple, iPhone said Out of Africa); I’ve told three people arguing about the merit of Indie Rock to simmer down. But, the most remarkable argument I have ever witnessed at the park, and potentially in life, was between a couple. It was over which one had screwed up the other one’s life more.

They had enough self-respect to move to a corner of the park behind a big tree to have the fight, out of the earshot of most patrons. However, they could not see that I was seated on the other side of the tree. Perhaps the polite thing for me to do would have been to move, as it was clear they were looking for privacy. However, the story-teller in me said to stay. Since I bring a tiny notepad everywhere, I was able to record most of the fight, almost word for word. I’ve cleaned things up a bit (believe it or not) but it went as follows:

Woman: I really don’t understand what the big deal with the eggs was this morning.
Man: I told you I didn’t care what type of eggs you made me but you continued to ask.
Woman: Well, it seemed strange to me that you didn’t have a preference.
Man: My preference is not to be woken up to be asked what type of eggs I want.
Woman: I was being nice. I was making you eggs!
Man: I didn’t want any fucking eggs! I wanted to sleep!
Woman: Oh, well I guess I am just a total jerk for making you breakfast in bed. What a piece of shit girlfriend I am.
Man: I didn’t say you were a piece of shit…I just didn’t give a damn about the eggs.
Woman: Fine. No more eggs. But you could have said thank you.
Man: Thank you? Thank you for what? Ruining my life?
Woman: Ruining your life? I used to wake up looking forward to the day. Now, I wake up thinking about how each day will be worse than the last because you are in it.
Men: Funny, every day I wake up next to you, I try not to move and wake you because I want to get out of the apartment without hearing your bitchy voice.
Woman: I may be a bitch but it’s because I am dating a stupid bastard.
Man: If I’m the dumbass here, why do you keep coming back to me?
Woman: Because you’re a sure thing.
Man: In what way?
Woman: You’re too stupid to realize I’m screwing you to make Mark jealous.

Long, long silence.

Man: Mark! Mark! You want to go for Mark? He wouldn’t stoop so low.

Smack! (only way I know it was she who slapped him is that I could sort of see a reflection off my watch). Sobbing.

Man: I’m sorry babe, I didn’t mean it.
Woman: Why do we suck so much?
Man: We don’t. Let’s go get Bojangles and go home, pop a movie in and drink some wine.

Pause

Woman (still sobbing): Ok

What!!!? That is some crazy shit. I’ve never had, or seen, an argument even remotely that intense (barring TV and film). And to just make up after it? How can you say such horrible things to each other and then move on from there? I’m pretty sure if Dave told me that every day he wakes up next to me is the worst day of his life, a bottle of wine and a movie wouldn’t quite take my mind off of that. This got me thinking about what the biggest fight Dave and I ever got into was; and what I realized was that we really don’t fight. We’ve been together almost five years and the biggest fight we’ve had was over my gum-chewing habits and involved absolutely no yelling. Not that I need to scream about eggs at the dog park, but fighting is a sign of passion and keeps things interesting, right? Am I missing out on great makeup sex?

After researching many accredited websites like Yahoo Answers, I came to the following conclusion: yes, I am indeed missing out on great makeup sex but no, as long as we’re expressing our feelings honestly, we do not NEED to scream like banshees. As for the passion, well, there’s always alcohol!

Just kidding, we don’t need alcohol to spark a flame, but we do need Scout off the bed as she is a bigger cock block than herpes.

Pursue your Passions - regardless of how boring or gross people think they are

Of all the sciences NY state forced students to take, Earth Science was by far the worst. Though a high school class, us “gifted” children (several only gifted in repelling the opposite sex) could take the class in junior high. We learned about the exciting topics of weather and rocks. And it should be noted we did not learn about natural disasters or fossils, the only two things which may have held my interest within those categories. Instead, we drew barometric pressure charts and calculated half-life. I have been alive a quarter-life and have yet to apply a half-life outside this class.

Despite the fact that not a single student showed even an iota of interest (even Venn-Diagram-loving Evan Stern), our teacher, Dr. DeWitt spoke about the topic as if he were telling us the most exciting news, which at the time would have been that Hanson was playing “ Mmmbop” at our Valentine’s Dance (I hated Hanson, I’m going with majority opinion here). Anyway, I was baffled as to how DeWitt could be so enthused about something dryer than Passover cookies. But at the dog park a few weeks ago I think I came to a conclusion.

Almost every dog at the park likes to roll in disgusting things, including dead animal parts, bodily fluids and fungus-covered trees. Despite the fact that in the Van Halen video “Right Now” it looks like that Golden Retriever is just rolling around for fun, I guarantee there was squirrel vomit or some equally foul item on that ground. At the park, Chloe seems to favor regurgitated but not fully digested food items, Champ enjoys crushed bugs and Monkey likes fruit cores and skins (including banana). Though Scout rolls in all three, poop is clearly her favorite nasty item, in both the loose and hard variations. If I glance away for just one second, there is a 93% chance Scout is rolling in some feces. There have been many a walk we have returned from early in order to hose her down. The thing is, nothing gives Scout as much joy as rolling in poop. She could do it all day every day with an enthusiasm rivaled only by Richard Simmons. Scout puts more passion into poop rolling than I do into anything. It is her Earth Science.

Who the hell was I to judge Dr. DeWitt? Who in the hell am I to judge Scout or Chloe or Bijon or Monkey? They have a passion and are whole-heartedly pursuing it – which is more than most people can say, including myself. The fact that someone, dog or human, can be overjoyed by something as simple as the water cycle or having poop smeared all over them, is actually admirable. Maybe I should stop thinking about some complicated, meaningful path I should dedicate my life to and just find something simple that I love and truly pursue it, regardless of what other people think. Though I know my thing is not physics or feces, I am not sure what it is. For now, I’ll just sit and be jealous of the pressure-charting Mr. DeWitt and gross-thing rolling dogs – we should all be so lucky to find something we truly love (other than alcohol).