Mama Was a Pimp and Daddy Whored Around
Alpha Human Mom would wend her way through the narrow alleys between dog show vendors, solicitin' business. Dad preened and pranced and paraded his wares for the public; swaggerin' around the show ring, posin' for the cameras, and flirtin' with any female who got within ten feet. Propositions were made--debates--haggling--deals cut… Offers, resumes, background checks, look-sees, introductions, interviews, even a butt sniff or two. Sometimes it would take weeks and months of trollin' to find the right girl with the right look, the right family--and the right bank account before Dad could take 'em back to his place. When a deal was struck and money changed hands… Well, Dad did what all us males do when a hot babe is handed to us on a sliver platter.
Think the Mayflower Madam with a side of Dolly Levy played against a background of the ole' Hollywood castin' couch.
Occasionally, though, other kinds of matchmakin' took place--like in the story the oldsters still pass around when we're all layin' on the back stoop pretendin' to be guard dogs.
See AHM had a Special Friend--who became the Special Other then the Special ex-Other. Not long after they met, she invited him to spend the weekend at our ranch cottage. Problem was, she forgot it was the same weekend a certain Daisy was also comin'--to visit Dad.
Continued in Read the Rest!
Daisy arrived Friday mornin' and there were hopes (both Dad's and AHM's) that events would take their course before the SF arrived Friday evenin'. And they would have. Except… Daisy was a virgin. A coy, skittish, hankie-to-the-lips, vapors-on-the-couch, "Ah lawdy, Rhett" virgin.
Dad chased that bitch from one end of the house to the other, over sofas and chairs, under tables and beds. She danced and twirled and shrieked like a teenager. He wagged and panted and snuffled. She'd wiggle her rear in his face. He'd grab her around the waist. She'd squeal and spin. He'd grab. She'd squeal. Grab. Squeal. Run. Over. Under. Around. Grab. Squeal. They'd go at it for an hour then collapse in the middle of the floor, tongues scrapin' the rug until they got their second wind--or third or fourth--and start all over again.
By the time the SF arrived, they were both pretty worn out. Dad was still tryin' to convince Daisy how much fun they could have but you could tell his heart (not to mention another part of him) really wasn't in it. Auntie Henrietta said AHM eventually locked Daisy in her kennel cab, put the rest of the crew in the guest room and Dad out on the porch 'cause, well, there was the Special Friend to consider…
The next morning the show moved outside. Auntie Hen says the look on the SF's face durin' breakfast was priceless and he kept swivelin' back and forth to keep track of the action. (Evidently he never had to work that hard for his fun, but I'm just guessin' on that.) Eventually AHM went to clean up the kitchen and SF dragged out a lawn chair to catch some rays.
Suddenly AHM noticed everything had gotten reeaaallll quiet. She charged out onto the porch…
There they were…
…under SF's lawn chair…
…doin' what comes naturally.
Auntie Hen says AHM yelled somethin' like "Oh my God!" and leaped over the porch rail. SF jumped straight out of the lawn chair, tried to turn, tripped over his feet, and landed nose to muzzles with a couple of love-locked terriers who were grinnin' from ear to ear…
…and asked what they were doin'.
Not the most intelligent question considerin' the position those two were in, but I suppose AHM made allowances for the shock of the fall and the fact he was a city boy. Needless to say, he figured it out pretty fast all on his own.
There was no movin' 'em once they got started, but AHM didn't want 'em passin' out in the hot sun so she hauled out the beach umbrella. While SF was helpin' her set it up, Dad moved into the approved position and the two of 'em were oblivious to everything except themselves. Daisy was certainly enjoyin' her deflowerment.
Guess SF had never seen anything like it before, 'cause he kept sayin' "They're back to back!" over and over. AHM told him that was normal. Then all he kept sayin' was "You mean it bends backwards!?"
After a few minutes of sittin' on the lawn watchin' two dogs do nothin' worth seein', SF asked how long they'd take. When AHM told him about 45 minutes, he looked like she'd hit him with a brick. For the rest of the weekend, SF kept eyein' Dad and mutterin' "45 minutes--backwards!"
And from that day on everyone believes SF and AHM got together 'cause he just had to prove to her he was better than a dog.
posted by Harrison at 6:59 PM
Enjoyable blog. Please check out my dog blog.7:51 AM