Maybe it’s because they’re often good looking people I notice it more. Young well-dressed couples coming back from dinner and drinks, headed for their car or a better avenue to grab a cab. One of them inevitably notices one or more of the dogs, crying “puppies” in a voice not unlike that which I use on the kids myself from time to time. More often than not it’s the girl who wants to stop and pet the dogs, but sometimes it’s the guy. Frequently, it’s the gay partner.
Often the partners / boyfriends / girlfriends of these dog loving folk aren’t just disinterested, they’re bloody annoyed as hell and go to eye-rolling, grimacing lengths to let me (and their significant other) know this.
Mind you, not that all dog lovers are wonderful, affable types (or even sane), but the majority of these people who brake for a dog they just must greet in mid-stride on a New York street have good energy - something often lacking in their furled-faced partners.
Certainly I’m biased as the quasi-sane owner / parent of 3 dogs in Manhattan, but one instance occurring the other night struck a particular nerve. I was walking by Posh, the gay bar on our street, where Delilah has been known to rub herself on the gray carpeted patio, when a young woman asked if she could pet the dogs. She emitted warm bubbly energy and had soft attractive features accented by understated makeup. Possessing a normal body by most standards, she couldn’t help but seem slightly full-bodied when standing next to her hyper-fit girlfriend who held herself like a sprung Broadway dancer in tight leggings that accentuated her muscular thighs and calves as she stood cross-armed in a plie.
Our dog petter professed the common heartbreak of longing for her woofie residing with parents out-of-state. As she told me about her 3 Manhattan cats her taut friend pulled one arm behind her head, tugging at the elbow with the opposite hand, then reversing the stretch with the other arm.
“I so wish I could have a doggie, but I’m really into my cats, too. Did you know that there are white lions in the wild. Not just white tigers, but white lions?”
“No, I had no idea,” I respond
“Yeah, I think it was on National Geographic, but maybe Animal Planet, but anyway, they said these white lions have magical powers. I think it was National Geographic.”
“That’s so friggin’ cool. I love cats, but I’m so allergic to them, otherwise I might have cats too.”
As I’m over-professing my love of cats (I really do like them but my allergies are so powerful they prevent any real cat fraternity) the dancer girlfriend completes her stretch and just walks away from our little cat chat - like 18 feet away.
“It’s so cool. These white lions, they live in caves and are feared throughout the animal kingdom. Maybe it was Animal Planet. Yeah, Animal Planet… I guess I better go.”
“Yeah hey, thanks for loving up the woofies; it was really nice meeting you.”
“Yeah, me too, love your dogs” she says her back turned as she closes the 18-foot distance toward her control freak, exercise-oholic bitch of a girlfriend.
Then it hits me. Deja vu. This dancer chick did the exact same thing to another girlfriend of hers who’d said hello to my dogs, outside the same bar two months prior. I remember the about-face she pulled as if I was hitting on her girlfriend. She must think I’m cruising for bi- and lesbian girls (who happen to be her date). I vaguely remember the last girlfriend being a tall, lanky, attractive brunette who when faced with the same “come hither” departure delivered an exasperated expression conveying she was none too tolerant of the maneuver. Which perhaps explains the new girlfriend who’s in to magic white lions on National Geographic / Animal Planet.
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