No gender confusion at the dog park

Males and females are different. That has never been more obvious to me than when I have watched Annie interact with the males at the dog park. I don’t know if I have mentioned here before that Annie is in love with a Dobie named Frisco. He’s tall, dark and perfect, a studly unneutered dog who wags his stub of a tail and comes running when he sees Annie.

Together, Frisco and Annie run and sniff each other, and Annie does this flirtatious dance I have never seen her do anywhere else. She keeps flipping her rear end at Frisco.

Enter another male, Buddy. Buddy is an Australian cattle dog mix, a bit smaller than Frisco, about Annie’s height. Suddenly the males bond and go off running while Annie tries to follow but can’t quite keep up. Occasionally, Frisco takes a break to lick her rear end. Buddy takes a minute to sniff her girl parts, too. Then he goes off running with Buddy again. Clearly females are only good for one thing in their eyes.

Another female arrives. Uh-oh, I think. Surely the girls will get jealous and fight. But no, Buddy takes a shine to the new female, and Frisco sticks with Annie. Suddenly everyone’s paired up. Isn’t this the way of the world?

What follows is an orgy of running, peeing, licking and attempted humping. Dogs don’t worry about trying to be polite. They act like animals. Watching this, it’s hard to ignore the obvious roles given to males and females in nature. I wonder how this applies to people, especially as I sit next to the male dogs’ male owners and feel as if I come from a different tribe. I’m grateful I put on makeup, and I worry about how my rear end looks as I walk away, regretting the gym pants with keys and cell phone making the pockets bulge. The men are probably too busy talking to each other to look anyway, but maybe . . .

Usually Annie lets me know when she’s ready to leave, but this time I had to drag her out. Frisco licked her ears in farewell. She staggered to the car and climbed onto the passenger seat, wet, stinking of urine, worn out and utterly in love.

You can’t argue with that.

Author: Sue Fagalde Lick

writer/musician California native, Oregon resident Author of Freelancing for Newspapers, Shoes Full of Sand, Azorean Dreams, Stories Grandma Never Told, Childless by Marriage, and Up Beaver Creek. Most recently, I have published two poetry chapbooks, Gravel Road Ahead and The Widow at the Piano: Confessions of a Distracted Catholic. I have published hundreds of articles, plus essays, fiction and poetry. I'm also pretty good at singing and playing guitar and piano. View all posts by Sue Fagalde Lick