Thursday, May 14, 2009
Oops: A Brief Tale of an Unrequited Girl-Dog Crush
There is a dog run across the street from our house, and many of the neighborhood dogs go there to play. It can be pretty yappy and noisy, but I don't mind because I love dogs so much, and it gives me a chance to lurk and ogle surreptitiously whenever I'm going in or out of our door. Mostly the dogs don't notice me, which makes me feel a little weird. I think they're so good-looking, so why won't they give me the time of day with a reciprocal ogle?
Yesterday morning, letting myself into the house, I stopped to check out the dog run. Sure enough, a disarmingly hunky boxer was rumbling along the perimeter. He stopped when he saw me checking him out, and came over, and pressed his drooly muzzle to the bars, his ears pricked up, staring at me. Finally, I'd gotten a dog to notice me back! I called to him across the street, but sotto voce, "Good boy, you're so handsome..." etc. etc. He didn't move. Wow, this was unprecedented! I must have been looking pretty good, I thought, for this beast to stare for so long.
But suddenly it occurred to me, why would the boxer be interested in me? This wasn't low self-esteem, just pragmatism. I didn't have Pippin with me any longer, nor was I carrying a giant salami hoagie. Just me and my purse. So, realizing it might not be me he was staring at, in my best wallflower move, I turned to check behind me to discover the real object of his interest. If this was a story with a happy ending, there would have been no one on the block, and I would have realized that the stare and little tail wag were indeed meant for me.
But alas, there, right behind me a few paces, was a little Jack Russell terrier, staring back at the boxer and wagging adorably.
Oops. I was as embarrassed as if this had taken place at the prom and I had mistaken the captain of the football team's little finger waggle in my direction for a come-hither aimed at me, instead of at the quarterback standing behind me (I was going to say the head cheerleader, but come on, it's so much better as a story of undercover gay love).
I managed to cover my shame with an elaborate show of unlocking the door while trying to hang onto my iced coffee...
*photo: Siba the Boxer Dog by Elliot Moore from Flickr Creative Commons