I love dogs and if I didn’t travel so much, I would have one. I may even figure out how to have one and travel but I think that means I would need a staff of walkers and sitters. I’m not ready for a staff just yet. Until the day I am, I watch my friend’s dogs.
Fanny belongs to Kimberly and is eight years old. I told Kimberly it would take 6 years before Fanny would ripen into an incredible dog. I was off by a year – it took 7 – but she is incredible. She’s part pit bull and sweet as can be until a skateboard goes by. Then Fanny takes to the sky in a rage and it’s like flying a kite in a wild wind. I used to walk Fanny before my arm was messed up by surgery. I was always amused as to who would come up to me to talk about Fanny while I had her out. She had a type and it was men I referred to as a Double T. Testosterone and Trouble and lots of it all rolled into one. It’s amazing how many versions there are out there. Fanny always smells a Double T when he’s about and when she does she immediately rolls onto her back and gives a come hither kind of look. Without fail, the intended Double T rubs her belly. I don’t wish for a Double T in my life but it does seem such a shame that I have a no fail magnet available to me. I usually just chat a bit and then pull Fanny to move on. She always looks disappointed.
It wasn’t until I watched Coco for a week that I realized the type of dog you have does matter. I was barely 40 feet out of my building with Coco when I realized she didn’t attract Double T’s. No sir. A mere 8 months old and she had a brand of human that I hadn’t expected. In hindsight, it shouldn’t have surprised me. Coco attracts women. It was old women who have given up on plucking their chin hairs that first assaulted me in the street. I know about their chin hairs because they weren’t into the usual code of space between two for a conversation. They were in my face discussing in joyous rapture the cuteness of Coco.
Coco wasn’t much of a walker. She’d do a few steps but much preferred to be carried. I’m a 10,000 step a day kind of gal and Coco fit under my arm – all 10 pounds of her. There were times I pretended she was a purse and she seemed rather pleased riding under my arm like a clutch. It was during those moments I discovered the second kind of person attracted to Coco. Beautiful women who liked other women also liked Coco. I know this because they too would stop me to talk about Coco and then start petting her while I held her. Inevitably, they would start petting my arm and look into my eyes. Nothing… I don’t wish for a lesbian or an old woman in my life but it does seem a shame because I have a no fail magnet available to me. Sigh.
This has got me thinking. What kind of dog do I want and how will I know what it’s going to attract? Will I like the people who stop to chat or will they drive me mad? Suddenly, I’m feeling an added weight to my decision. Now, I’m watching who has what on the end of a leash.