Returning to Earth<\/a><\/em>, sent by my mother, was comfortingly American\u2014full of Michigan glacier lakes and complicated delinquents. Now back in the States, I was reading everything he had written. He was a master of the unconventional character, and Dalva was queen among them.<\/p>\nI very much liked the idea of being entangled with a shirtless horseman who fried up post-sex bacon before skinny-dipping in a pond and said things like, \u201cIf I see another oilman, I might shoot the son of a bitch.\u201d<\/p>\n
There were some challenges: I was not a grand, reckless, independently wealthy beauty who rode bareback over the plains; I gagged at the smell of brown liquor, and grass-chewing rodeo riders were hard to come by in New York. <\/p>\n
But I did have a dog. And from now on, I would not shut her away in another room during relations. This was potentially the first step to becoming as brave and earthy as Dalva.<\/p>\n
Immediately, there were problems. <\/p>\n
My dog did not howl along like Dalva\u2019s, nor did she wander off to chew a bone in the other room. Instead, she interpreted my sexual encounters as playtime. When I turned my head mid-coitus, I found a spotted animal sitting upright just inches from my face. She was polite but persistent. She sneezed. She snorted. She let out a high-pitched yawn. She wanted somehow to be included. <\/p>\n
I had imagined that I might feel that I was somehow offending my dog\u2019s innocent sensibilities. Instead, it seemed that she was the real libertine here. <\/p>\n
It escalated with each encounter. She pawed the mattress. She learned to sense a climax coming. Several times, overcome with excitement, she jumped straight up onto the pillows at the critical moment. One day, as a fellow tried to walk naked to the bathroom, she made a cheerful beeline for his groin, surely to take a gentle sniff. But human men can\u2019t be reasonable with an animal\u2019s mouth hurtling toward their balls. He darted back to bed.<\/p>\n
\u201cShe went straight for it!\u201d he screeched. No Sam Creekmouth, this guy.<\/p>\n
But I felt that this was my entr\u00e9e into a bohemian lifestyle, and I would not let go. Then, one day, I met my match: a man who had gone one step further than I had. Not only did he let his two enormous hounds watch us have sex, but he also allowed them on the bed.<\/p>\n
\u201cIt\u2019s their house,\u201d he said when I suggested they temporarily lounge on the floor. Soon, my dog hopped up too. Now, the man and I were crushed together in a corner of the bed. The sheets bunched up; a pillow fell off. Without room for the left side of his body on the mattress, he balanced a foot on the floor, a hand on the wall. <\/p>\n
This was bad for our backs.<\/p>\n
Moments later, I reached my breaking point.<\/p>\n
You\u2019d think it was because a man was unwilling to remove his pets from the bed. You\u2019d think maybe I wanted more than a sliver of space.<\/p>\n
The truth is, our spectators had become accidental critics. And the reviews weren\u2019t good.<\/p>\n
Our audience, perched in front-row seats, fell asleep during the show. My dog, she of the hooting and jumping, shut her eyes. His two dogs stretched out and snoozed.<\/p>\n
I recognize that dogs have no boundaries when it comes to sex: They don\u2019t make love behind closed doors or value virginity. They don\u2019t demand monogamy, and their courting rituals often involve a mere shift of the tail. In the history of a world, a dog has never been scandalized. And they simply can\u2019t have a qualitative concept of human sexual chemistry.<\/p>\n
But as those that live with pets know, despite all logic and theory, sometimes these creatures really do seem to be giving us the stink-eye, the cold shoulder, a knowing glance. <\/p>\n
Sometimes they watch us too closely. Of course, we\u2019re probably just transposing our insecurities and emotions onto them.<\/p>\n
But still.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m sorry,\u201d I said to the dog, \u201cbut you\u2019re cut off.\u201d She seemed fine with that. <\/p>\n
Turns out, that lack of dog music is a real mood swinger, too.<\/p>\n
Justine van der Leun is the author of <\/em>Marcus of Umbria<\/a>. <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"It wasn\u2019t my idea to have sex while the dog watched. It was Jim Harrison\u2019s. I was reading a scene near the end of Harrison\u2019s novel Dalva, when Dalva Northridge meets a Native-American cowboy named Sam Creekmouth and ends up having bourbon-fueled trailer sex with him. During their rib-bruising lovemaking session, Dalva\u2019s pup howls along. […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":14,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[47],"tags":[1051,1053,1052,1054,1056,1055,179],"class_list":["post-5057","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-department-of-sex-ed","tag-animals","tag-dalva-northridge","tag-dogs","tag-jim-harrison","tag-returning-to-earth","tag-sam-creekmouth","tag-sex"],"acf":[],"yoast_head":"\n
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