calgarygirl
08-10-2005, 10:10 AM
LIFE WITH NEWMAN – PUT THAT THING AWAY
While far from being a prude, I embarrass quite easily. And I'm not one that can hide my embarrassment because my face will look like I've just completed three hours of aerobics, minus the drippy sweat. I turn red when I'm embarrassed and cover my face with my hands wishing that the earth would swallow me whole and burp up my clothes. Being a dog owner inherently dictates that you will suffer more than a few of life's most humiliating and undignified moments. Who among us can't relate to the leg humping of one's mother-in-law, peeing on the reverend's pant leg, tooting during your dinner party and the exuberance of a puppy joyfully running through your daughter's wedding shower with a feminine product in its mouth? But these moments are galactically overshadowed by every inopportune moment when your male canine has the reaction that most prepubescent boys have while flipping through their first Playboy magazine.
The unfortunate reality of owning a male dog is that all of their "privates" are the exact opposite of that word. Their "privates" are very, very public. Blessedly, if you own a breed such as a Sheepdog or an Irish Setter, Big Jim and the Twins are usually hidden behind a veil of fur. Unfortunately, if you own a Lab, a Weimaraner, a Vizsla, a Ridgeback or any other short-haired dog, their wares are on display like a golf ball sitting on granite. I simply cannot attend dog shows because the sight of all those unneutered male canines with their baubles sashaying down the runway makes me giggle like a school girl. When Newman was a puppy and his manhood finally "dropped", he could go an entire day without noticing them. But the minute Dave's mom and dad walk through our door and sit down for tea, it's like that manhood was dipped in gravy and sprinkled with bacon bits. We're trying to absorb the details of Uncle Lou's heroic passing of a kidney stone, while Newman indulges himself in the most selfish of narcissistic activity. This activity could go largely unnoticed if it were a quiet endeavour, however, even if you can't SEE your dog, it sounds as though Gene Simmons is assaulting a popsicle.
And I think we are all familiar with the canine version of "how do you do? It's a pleasure to meet you". One would anticipate that the proper introduction would be a clever "shake a paw", but the standard dog salutation consists of them wanting to leave their nose prints all over your button-flies. I think dogs use this method of "scoping" the same way we use polite cocktail party conversation. We're sizing you up, judging your appearance and the way you smell and trying to decide if we would have children with you. This "doggy greeting" is exceedingly difficult to fend off, especially if you happen to be holding a tray of canapés at your monthly book club meeting.
But when the truly mortifying occurs, that is what I call a "Revlon Moment". Your dog has no control over nature, and when nature is stimulated, it is a lovely shade of Revlon Pink-a-Boo lipstick. Cosmetic companies expend millions of dollars inventing the cutesy names for their lipsticks and I'm sure they would be highly insulted to know that a lot of us use "a pink tube of lipstick" as a euphemism for something that we would never put in our purse.
These arousals, of course, are natural, but also seem to pop up at the most innocent of times. It happens to Newman when he is euphorically rolling in the grass on his back, which I'm sure feels like heaven, but makes him look like a sun dial. At other times, he's just sitting there doing absolutely nothing and the next thing you know, I'm reminded of my favourite Pink Sparkle Crayola crayon. And don't even try to deny it—you have nicknamed this occurrence in your household and you admonish your dog whenever the occasion arises. "Ewwwww….Buster, put that thing away!" as if he had control over it like a turtle going in and out of its shell.
And if you want to see your husband, boyfriend, dad, brother, uncle become totally unglued, watch their reaction when "Petey" makes an appearance if they happen to be petting/wrestling with/or snuggling their beloved dog at that moment. They will leap into the air like they have been zapped with electricity and glare at their former best friend with eyes of betrayal. Only the human male ego would attribute their charisma and charm as the only logical explanation for their dog's ardour and not the lingering scent of the roast beef on rye they ate for lunch. Either way, when asked, said man will deny having seen the dog for the last couple of hours.
Life is made up of embarrassing moments and we generally survive them and carry on. Our dogs provide love, loyalty, protection and comfort in a world that can often be cruel and defeating. And when I find myself roaring with laughter while Newman tries to pick up three Kong balls in his mouth, well, that just tickles me pink.
Dee Clair
Calgary, Alberta
While far from being a prude, I embarrass quite easily. And I'm not one that can hide my embarrassment because my face will look like I've just completed three hours of aerobics, minus the drippy sweat. I turn red when I'm embarrassed and cover my face with my hands wishing that the earth would swallow me whole and burp up my clothes. Being a dog owner inherently dictates that you will suffer more than a few of life's most humiliating and undignified moments. Who among us can't relate to the leg humping of one's mother-in-law, peeing on the reverend's pant leg, tooting during your dinner party and the exuberance of a puppy joyfully running through your daughter's wedding shower with a feminine product in its mouth? But these moments are galactically overshadowed by every inopportune moment when your male canine has the reaction that most prepubescent boys have while flipping through their first Playboy magazine.
The unfortunate reality of owning a male dog is that all of their "privates" are the exact opposite of that word. Their "privates" are very, very public. Blessedly, if you own a breed such as a Sheepdog or an Irish Setter, Big Jim and the Twins are usually hidden behind a veil of fur. Unfortunately, if you own a Lab, a Weimaraner, a Vizsla, a Ridgeback or any other short-haired dog, their wares are on display like a golf ball sitting on granite. I simply cannot attend dog shows because the sight of all those unneutered male canines with their baubles sashaying down the runway makes me giggle like a school girl. When Newman was a puppy and his manhood finally "dropped", he could go an entire day without noticing them. But the minute Dave's mom and dad walk through our door and sit down for tea, it's like that manhood was dipped in gravy and sprinkled with bacon bits. We're trying to absorb the details of Uncle Lou's heroic passing of a kidney stone, while Newman indulges himself in the most selfish of narcissistic activity. This activity could go largely unnoticed if it were a quiet endeavour, however, even if you can't SEE your dog, it sounds as though Gene Simmons is assaulting a popsicle.
And I think we are all familiar with the canine version of "how do you do? It's a pleasure to meet you". One would anticipate that the proper introduction would be a clever "shake a paw", but the standard dog salutation consists of them wanting to leave their nose prints all over your button-flies. I think dogs use this method of "scoping" the same way we use polite cocktail party conversation. We're sizing you up, judging your appearance and the way you smell and trying to decide if we would have children with you. This "doggy greeting" is exceedingly difficult to fend off, especially if you happen to be holding a tray of canapés at your monthly book club meeting.
But when the truly mortifying occurs, that is what I call a "Revlon Moment". Your dog has no control over nature, and when nature is stimulated, it is a lovely shade of Revlon Pink-a-Boo lipstick. Cosmetic companies expend millions of dollars inventing the cutesy names for their lipsticks and I'm sure they would be highly insulted to know that a lot of us use "a pink tube of lipstick" as a euphemism for something that we would never put in our purse.
These arousals, of course, are natural, but also seem to pop up at the most innocent of times. It happens to Newman when he is euphorically rolling in the grass on his back, which I'm sure feels like heaven, but makes him look like a sun dial. At other times, he's just sitting there doing absolutely nothing and the next thing you know, I'm reminded of my favourite Pink Sparkle Crayola crayon. And don't even try to deny it—you have nicknamed this occurrence in your household and you admonish your dog whenever the occasion arises. "Ewwwww….Buster, put that thing away!" as if he had control over it like a turtle going in and out of its shell.
And if you want to see your husband, boyfriend, dad, brother, uncle become totally unglued, watch their reaction when "Petey" makes an appearance if they happen to be petting/wrestling with/or snuggling their beloved dog at that moment. They will leap into the air like they have been zapped with electricity and glare at their former best friend with eyes of betrayal. Only the human male ego would attribute their charisma and charm as the only logical explanation for their dog's ardour and not the lingering scent of the roast beef on rye they ate for lunch. Either way, when asked, said man will deny having seen the dog for the last couple of hours.
Life is made up of embarrassing moments and we generally survive them and carry on. Our dogs provide love, loyalty, protection and comfort in a world that can often be cruel and defeating. And when I find myself roaring with laughter while Newman tries to pick up three Kong balls in his mouth, well, that just tickles me pink.
Dee Clair
Calgary, Alberta