Invisible Fences Make Good Neighbors

My dog has an Invisible Fence... a wire that runs around my property and is buried under the ground. He wears a collar and if he gets too close to the line it beeps, and if he ignores the beep... it gives him a shock. This sounds cruel, but I live on a busy street and with three kids running in and out, there was a good chance of him getting out and getting hit. Once we had the fence installed, he did get shocked a few times. But only a very few. They put flags up to warn him where the border was and he learned in a day where his territory was. It has gotten to the point where he doesn't even wear his collar much anymore. He just assumes that his border is what it is... and he is content in his box. And he runs madly around in that box to the point of wearing a path through my front yard... right where the line is.

Having spent much of the last year watching the unfolding drama of various celebrities... John Edwards, Tiger Woods, Jesse James, and Tiki Barber... to name the obvious... I am struck by a sea change of the male/female dynamic. I am not naive enough to think that these men are a new phenomenon. The sea change is, however, in how these men are portrayed in the press, and by the public in general. In many cases prior, much of the blame was wrongly placed on the woman... the succubus who come for seduction and are completely irresistible to even the strongest of men, willing them away from their chosen mates. But the sea change is that in these latest cases the men are portrayed as the offenders and the women, as innocent victims of the man's sexual appetites. I don't really know what went on in any of these cases... and neither do you... as much as you think you might. In all likelihood there is guilt on both sides of the aisle. But that doesn't make for as good of a story.

But how does this relate to Invisible fences... you ask.

Well, if I didn't buy my dog an Invisible Fence... he would undoubtedly be running around the neighborhood in a bacchanalian frenzy, screwing everything in sight... girl dogs, boy dogs, children, legs, trees, fire hydrants... etc. There are many dogs in my neighborhood... and many real fences... and some of the dogs ignore their borders and dig under the fences and bound around, breaking out of their boxes and breaking the rules. It isn't until they get hit by the car that they realize that this probably wasn't a good idea. However, those with fences that shock provide some pain beforehand to deter the inevitable frenzy to occurs. I wonder how many of the above mentioned men would have strayed if they were given the painful shock of embarrassment and family ruination that comes after the fact.

It is easy to sit on the sidelines and judge others... and I realize that none of us are completely to blame... nor completely innocent. My dog follows his nature. His nature is to sow his seed far and wide. As more evolved... we humans are supposed to live by a code which uses rules and morals to provide the Invisible Fences around us. Our big brains allow us to think into the future and to see the destruction our actions will cause... both to ourselves and to those around us. Yet the big brain is often overridden by the little brain of our libido.

Perhaps we all just need to wear collars that provide us a jolt of electricity when we begin to get too close to the line.

My Dog is David Carradine

It was so hot outside yesterday the dog threw up. He's not very sage and tends to push the limits. He runs back and forth in the yard chasing cars and people and babies and rabbits and birds and whatever else comes into his line of sight, without a second thought that "gee... I'm wearing a fur coat." I read somewhere recently that the average dog is about as smart as the average two year old. If this is true then it must be one horny two year old. Because my dog thinks about sex. A lot. His walks aren't really walks. They are "dog on a mission" romps through the neighborhood. He leaves pee-mail at every sign, bush, and leg, marking his territory with rabid need for recognition. He smells the responses with equal fierceness, gleaning... I assume... the threats from the male dogs, and the come-ons from the bitches. I can almost read the responses by watching him. Wary and bristling when it is a male. Torqued out of his mind when it is a female. I usually narrate with an X-rated version of Doug, the dog from "Up!".

We bought him a special collar so he wouldn't crush his own larynx during his walks. Regular choker collars have one band the constricts when the dog pulls. The special one was invented by some dog guy near us that has two bands, and thus spreads the choking out over his entire neck, not just his windpipe. But we have the auto-erotic asphyxiation dog from hell. When he is chasing tale, he pulls without letting up until he is literally laying in the middle of the street gasping for air. People give us the "you are a bad person" look, like we are abusing him. I cheerfully wave. They slam their doors and dead bolt them. But I know they have closets hidden away with whips and chains in them.

Having never actually caught up with the bitch that left him the pee-mail... the horny dog turns to other sources of entertainment. My youngest daughter was the easiest target for awhile until he got the message loud and clear from the alpha dog that this was not kosher. Thus he transferred his lust to what we refer to as his "humpy blanket". It is soft and blue and when you play tug of war he gets aroused. "What is that red thing sticking out?" my daughter asked. Much amusement followed. For a few days. Now it just grosses the women of the house out to no end. The men still find it funny, of course.

Dogs are incapable of growing past this phase. They are unapologetic about their boners and sex toys, even if the women find it gross.

And while I realize that many men are equally unapologetic and incapable of growing out of this phase, I am not one of them. I am overly apologetic, if that is possible. But I wonder at times if the reason I like the dog so much is because of that unapologetic attitude. That go for broke until you are left panting and wheezing in the middle of the street chasing after someone. The higher brain tells me that this is gross and base. But there is some part of all of us that recognizes it for what it is. Primal lust. We want to lust. We want to be lusted after. But instead we slam the doors and hide away our needs in closets filled with whips and chains, pretending that it is all some vial practice that is below us.