A three-point-stance is vital to successful urination for the canine male. I don’t know why ‘cause my yellow lab, Yogi, always sets his foot down in the puddle he’s just made. It gives me a chuckle. I’ve been trying to figure out why he does it, but only a few thoughts have come to mind. I’ve started paying attention to other dogs who do the same thing. The oddity of this behavior had me ask Siri, who says a vertical surface keeps the scent around longer. (I doubt the dog has though this through, it’s instinct.) It could be a message declaring ownership of the vertical object, or a territorial boundary. I think it is more of a pride thing, or a pride of his thing, thing. They proudly lift their leg to call attention while waving their hooter-parts around for all to see. Then, they step in it and leave little stamp marks of their paw prints down the road. This makes it easier for the next dog to follow the prints and obliterate that message with their own.
Trump does that. He calls attention to himself, makes a mess, steps in his mess, then walks away. Those staffers who follow behind will say, “Smells like Trump has been here.” We’d better obliterate his mess with alternate facts and other such hoo-ha.
My female Basset Hound, Molly, doesn’t seem to have the same braggadocious needs in her peeing habits. Although sometimes a certain smell will make her squat in her version of a dainty feminine manner; she stops, splays her hind legs, and lets loose. If she happens to do this behind me on a walk it can be a wrenching experience for my back. Suddenly, without notice, my travel companion will turn into a fifty-five pound dead weight with claws in the ground. If she is in front, I trip; if she is behind me my shoulder gets jerked out of place. Either way, it doesn’t help the sciatica, and once I tore my calf muscle and was laid up on the couch for two weeks.
I suspect this is why Melania Trump slaps away Donald’s hand on vacations. She is a slight girl, in contrast to him, who doesn’t want her shoulder jared when her hefty husband suddenly stops. This has probably happened in the past and unlike Molly who is close to the ground with wide paws and stubby legs, she is perched up on those dagger-like pointy heels. A sudden stop by the big orange gorilla would instantly knock her off those precarious things.
Molly loves going on walks with her brother. On the left is a picture of my two dogs on a walk. We are just passing the spot where that ten-foot boa-constrictor surprised us from the tall grass. Now, if you look closely you will notice there is only one leash with a y-connector for the dogs. With Yogi’s sudden bursts of dog-brained, scattered energy and Molly’s propensity for sudden stops, the use of two leashes was literally tearing me apart; I had to put them together so they would jerk each other’s sciatica instead of mine.
This becomes particularly dangerous, however, when both dogs decide to go in the same direction at the same time. Suddenly there is 110 pounds and eight legs pulling me forward with determination. I’m more than twice their combined weight but that becomes a meaningless factor given the physics involved. All their force is applied to my shoulders which makes me top-heavy, leaving my legs to do most of the resistance or start running.
I imagine the White House staff feels like I do in that situation, too. There they are, running the country, when out of nowhere an invented word on an unfinished, published text pulls them off course and out of balance. Y’know, one has to wonder how he got all those cell phones through his own security to give away to other leaders in order to bypass our own security?
I don’t think anyone is holding his leash because he’s got to have collaborators programing those security-violating phones for him. Can you imagine him up all night with a tiny screwdriver and a box of new cell phones?
I’d become quite worried if my dogs got off their leash.