The Penis: One Lesbian's Perspective -- Part One

At 8 weeks of age, our puppy had a boner. A hard on. An erection as hard and long as an adult male's.

At 8 weeks old.

We'd just arrive home with him in our arms after a long trip from Seattle to Oregon and then back again. On our doorstep when we arrived was a large package -- his dog bed that we ordered from an online pet store before we'd left to retrieve him. We opened the box quickly, pulled his bed from the plastic wrapper and laid it out on the kitchen floor so he could climb in and feel at home.

Instead.

Instead he climbed onto the edge of the bed, pulled it underneath him with his front paws while grabbing the canvas with his mighty puppy teeth, and began humping like a mad man. My partner and I stared at each other in shock and disbelief. We'd read in all the "New Puppy" books that "mounting" was a sign of dominance and to be discouraged when it occurred on people's legs or on other dogs, but no where in our expensive owner's guides did it tell us what to do when our puppy mounted his own bed.

We had a quick committee discussion.

"He is a boy," I said.

"True," agreed my partner, "And it's not like it's inappropriate on an inanimate object, is it?"

"I guess as long as we limit where he can hump..." and I left my words hanging, flaccid and unfulfilled.

At this point in the discussion, Rubin, the viral puppy slid sideways on the floor lying with the bed still between his legs and his whole body pumping against the canvas. The hardwood floors proved an obstacle what with all the sliding and slipping. Ingeniously, he figured out that a prone position served his desires more effectively.

"He seems to be having fun," my partner laughed.

"Or possessed," I chimed in and at that moment, Rubin stopped, his back legs still moving slightly as he pushed the bed away, his mouth releasing his once firm grasp.

And then he tried to stand up.

This is perhaps when we laughed the most. He couldn't walk. He could barely stand up. His back hunched, his tail down he walked like an injured football player after a particularly brutal tackle to his mid-section. He looked up at us as if to say, "What the hell just happened to me?"

Later that afternoon I emailed the breeder in Oregon to ask her if this behavior was common.

"I've NEVER had a dog do such a thing," she wrote complete with the capital letters. We fretted for a few days especially when he proceeded to hump his bed on a nightly basis. Finally, to keep the bed from getting "soiled" we let him hump his stuff animal, a large dog that we'd bought to act as his "momma" when he slept in his crate at night.

We stopped referring to it as his "momma" though when her role clearly shifted from a comfort object to an object of nightly lust.

Now, over a year later and one stuff animal demolished, he humps his "Floppy" (a new, larger stuffed dog) on a regular basis. Occasionally, he'll growl at Floppy, frustrated that things are going as well or as quickly as he'd like. "Oh," observed a friend who'd witness his encounters, "angry sex is always the best."

As lesbians this nightly sexual rendezvous took a bit of getting used to. Well, more of an adjustment for me than for Ann, my partner. I was, we learned from watching the "L Word," a Gold Star lesbian and she was not. In other words, I have never been with a man sexually while she's had numerous boyfriends in her distant past. It is the stuff of humiliation and embarrassment when we are with certain friends.

"Never?" a good friend will ask.

"Nope, never."

And then the fun begins...for them anyway.

"Have you ever seen a penis?"

"Define 'seen'?" I'll ask, which only spurs on their aghast giggles.

"You know, up close and personal. Have you ever looked at a live one?"

"Not that I can remember and I think that's something I would remember."

"It all depends!" they'll guffaw and then tell their own personal stories about various "peni" they've encountered over their lifetimes.

The storytelling always ends the same way. "We've got to find some guy who'll let you look at his penis!"

"NO!" I'll scream. "Why is it so important?"

And they'll provide so many descriptive reasons why it is somehow vital to my experience to see a real, live penis that they convince themselves of the value.

"I've seen the dog's," I'll offer in attempt to fend off their advances.

"Oh, that's not even close," they'll complain. "You need to see an adult male's in full action!" And they'll begin scheming, wondering which of their male friends would be willing to even consider the opportunity to educate a Gold Star Lesbian.

This is when I generally leave the room or find the dog and offer him his "Floppy." He is always willing.

I try not to watch, but I have to admit, it's fascinating in an odd sort of way.

Very odd.