07-Apr-2006
The pet-lesbian relationship is often codependent. For example, single lesbians, longing for companionship, isolated from their coupled friends, invest tremendous emotional energy in their pets.
Let’s take the case of Allison B., who rescued a tick-covered, one-eyed terrier from the pound during a long single phase we refer to as “a sustained period of personal transformation.” Freckles was a special needs dog (making him a very special match for a special-needs lesbian). His one good eye required drops six times per day, a procedure he didn’t like at all--as his snapping jaws so eloquently communicated. Gradually, Allison’s patience and gentleness with the scruffy little rascal won out. He transformed into a well-behaved charmer. Soon he settled into the happy routine of snuggling up at the foot of Allison’s bed to sleep each night. His snapping jaws became a thing of the past, mentioned only as part of the mythology of his misfit phase, nothing like the sweet, tawny dog he was now.
Then Allison found a girlfriend.
Suddenly Freckles was no longer basking under the radiance of Allison’s attention. He received fewer treats, fewer pats on the head, fewer rides in the car. Whereas Allison once loved to sit on the sofa and gaze at him for hours, she now gazed into space with sweet Katie on her mind. Freckles was left alone for longer stretches of time.
One night, early on, the new girlfriend was over and she and Allison were in the throes of some wild, naked tribadism. Tormented by the sounds he associated with the loss of his best friend, mother, and soul mate, Freckles slunk into the bedroom, hunkered low, and spied through his single, sharp, black eye the foot of the intruder, the usurper of his love! Freckles sprang. His jaws latched on to a soft, pink toe, and--in a terrier version of Call of the Wild--he dug in his fangs till he felt them hit bone. “It was horrible,” said Allison, “like an oil geyser. The blood shot up and out.”
