Illustration by Greg Gossel
Ever been to the dog park? These buggers don't mess around, they get to the point.
Sniff. Good to meet'cha. I'll get on top.
We humans have really complicated matters with our questions of gender and predilection, of courting and selection.
When I was growing up, our dog humped everything. He nurtured a particular fondness for my little brother's stuffed animals -- and the family cat -- but he was generally indiscriminate; a basketball would suffice in a pinch. Incidentally, this provided utter comic porn, since his little legs weren't quite tall enough to truly straddle the ball.
If it smelled good, it needed to be humped. Shit -- even if it smelled like, well, shit -- yep. Still humped it.
There was no judgment.
He didn't concern himself with what the cat thought when he was pounding the teddy bear. And never once did I hear the cat ask if her ass looked too fat -- though she hissed sometimes. She probably had a headache.