OK, I didn’t write this one!  My good friend, Meg, did…I just had to share…will make you laugh until you cry!!

My real TOY Story (Toy poodles, that is)
by Meg Owens

So..this was my “yesterday”, regarding the two miniature poodles that we’ve been fostering from the local Humane Society for about 2 months.  Most recently, the two of them (“Tony” and “Grammy”) have been living with us for the past two weeks straight.  Prior to that, we’d get them for “sleepovers” and then return them to the shelter the next morning, so they could be “on display for adoption” during the days.  The past two weeks, however, the shelter has told me that they didn’t have room, and “would I mind” keeping them with me, full time (until a cage opens up)… but my friends have told me that this is a secret trick, to get me to fall more in love with these poodles… in their secret mission to get me to say, “Oh… I’ll adopt them”.

So… Tony and Grammy have become part of our family.  They think that Tony is Grammy’s “Grandson”.  Tony is 7 and Grammy is 9.   Pictures below. Tony is the one with the pointier nose.
Yesterday… I was beginning to get annoyed because I hadn’t heard from the Humane Society lady – even though she said she’d be calling me, as she was planning on having them go to the city – to another “rescue” place, where they might have a better chance of getting adopted (because “city” people, can handle/like smaller dogs, and they’re easier for apartment living).  These two “have to” go together because they’re so bonded, and for over 3 months now, they have not had luck being adopted out of our humane society.
The lady finally called yesterday – but she said, “Oh, I haven’t heard back from the rescue place, but how about you bring them in tomorrow morning and we’ll get them back on a schedule to be here in the day time for adoption (still implying I’d bring them home at night).  I said, “fine”…    10 minutes later, I let the dogs outside (with mine) and Luke was out there – – comes running in, “MOM! MOM! TONY AND GRAMMY’S BUTTS ARE STUCK TOGETHER! HURRY! GET THEM APART!”   Well, I run out there, and sure enough, they are “stuck” together and facing backwards (butt to butt).
I quickly flash back to the ONE TIME in my life that I’ve ever seen dogs mating, and it was MY first dog in New York, when I was 7 or 8 years old, and all I remember is that it was our dog, back then, being mounted by another dog (the Scottish Terrier down the road) and Mom spraying them with cold water from the hose.  I did NOT recall any “butt to butt” action, (perhaps I had a child’s mental block) but I did remember that when dogs do mate,that other grossly amazing things happened.
Well, I guess I wasn’t “cool” about it.
I ran outside, freaking out because they were butt to butt and figured, “my God, that must hurt.. they got tangled”.  I tried to pull them apart. No way in HELL was that going to happen. I turned the boy around back  to “humping” position, so that it would be easier for him to get unstuck  (yelling frantically, “Pull out, Tony, Pull that thing out!”) . Unfortunately, the Humane Society naming him a HUMAN , Italian name like Tony, was probably not the best thing to be yelling, when I’m pretty sure my neighbors were out at their pool. (let alone having my 9 year old in the background, yelling, “MOM! OH MY GOD! MOM!”   Then I yelled, “Luke, grab the hose and turn on the water!”  (I would now try the Dotty hose approach to detaching mating dogs).  No such luck.  They managed to turn butt to butt again (I’m thinking Tony’s thing is going to snap off at this point) so I put him back in what I thought was the “normal”, “comfy” position, but nothing was helping. I carry them inside and ask Luke to send the Humane Society a note for the lady to call me right away – but instead, he decides to google, “How to get your dogs unstuck”…and within a minute, he’s saying, “Mom! It says it’s okay. They can stick together if they’re mating, but it’s gross!”
I, at that point, have the dogs on my lap, as I’m trying to pry them apart, and within a few minutes, they were unstuck, as a stream of clear water like substance explodes out onto my thigh/sweatpants.  Shy of vomiting, I throw the girl dog into the crate and call the Humane Society. They say to bring them in.  (duh!)  Upon getting there (after taking a shower first), they look at Grammy and say, “Wow… she’s definitely in heat. That’s a swollen vulva…”   I reply that anyone’s vulva would be swollen if they just went through that…     I ask, “how can that be? You guys are supposed to FIX all animals that come in here before adopting them out!???!!!!”  They say, “well, their blood tests showed that they were fixed, but I guess there could be some remnant”.      WHATEVER!
Then I say, “well, what about Tony? Is he shooting blanks, or is my thigh going to have puppies”… and they check him out and see that “outwardly”, he has no balls, but then they’re pressing around on him and discover that his balls are “inside”.  So, long story longer…  she WAS in heat, and he WASN’T fixed either!”  They’ve both (supposedly) had surgeries today!
Back at the ranch…. shortly after their sexual ‘release’… (and after I gave Tony a cigarette),  Luke says, “Mom? Is that what sex is? Did those dogs have sex?”  I said, “Ummm…. Yes, you could say that!”  He yells, ‘OH THAT IS SO GROSS. I AM NEVER, EVER, EVER, GETTING MARRIED, AND NEVER EVER EVER HAVING SEX! THAT IS THE MOST DISGUSTING THING EVER!”    So, in a way, there was a good thing that came out of that awful experience and that was….  birth control for Luke. YEAH!     Unfortunately, 10 minutes later, he said, “Mom, PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE don’t tell me, but did that happen to you? Did my dad’s thing get stuck?”   So……………..we sadly had to have a little “heart to heart” and I said, “no, honey, unfortunately, your Dad isn’t built like Tony”.  He stopped asking questions, thank God. (and no, I didn’t really compare Tony. We had a very limited, vague conversation- reiterating that sex is not ever to be discussed at school or he’d lose his Ipod for two years).
So… that was my Wednesday.  I had a few glasses of wine last night.   My thigh feels bloated. Note to self:  Mating dogs “CAN” twist around/ go butt to butt, last for over 10 minutes.  I guess I now see why some people want to come back as “dogs” in their next life.