Have You Pet A Poodle Lately?

If so...wash your hands!

When I was a little girl, my Mom had a name for genitalia that she would use to avoid saying (whisper) penis or vagina. Her word was 'poodle'. I hated that. Anytime in my life when it was appropriate or necessary to say or hear the word poodle, as in reference to the dog breed, I would feel extremely uncomfortable and embarrassed. I tried to avoid these situations at all costs.

Don't get me wrong. I loved dogs and animals as much as any other little girl. I was overly affectionate to stray dogs and cats. Forcing my love on these poor abandoned animals has left me with more than a few scars. I would approach anybody walking a dog and ask to pet their beloved animal.

I remember once, I was with a friend. We saw a couple walking a little black dog with extremely curly hair. It was so small and cute. It's little pom pom tail wagging as we approached. We asked to pet the dog. The owner's said we could. I bent down and began to stroke his wirey mane. My friend asked, "What kind of dog is it?" "She's a poodle," they replied. WHAT? I stood up and backed away quickly as if they had told me their dog was rabid or covered in shit or something. The owners looked at me oddly, "You can pet her, she won't hurt you." I looked warily at the couple and at my friend. "Nnno thanks," I stuttered. "C'mon, we gotta go," I said to my friend.

This happened more than once. Each time, as soon as the word "poodle" left the owner's lips, I would halt all exchange of affection with their animal and back away quickly. Always following this with a glazed look into the distance, "I think my Mom is calling me."

Eventually I was able to recognize this breed of dog and avoided talking to poodle owners feeling a little judgemental about their choice of pet. It was obvious that they had to be some kind of freaks or something. Then my Mom sent me to a preschool where the owners of the preschool had two poodles! That was the worst. They would bring the poodles to school with them. All the kids would flock around them, "Oh how cute" and "come here, come here." I would stand around the perimeter red faced and wondering about the appropriateness of poodle petting at preschool. Something just didn't seem right about it. I felt so dirty.

As a result of this programming, I began to loath this breed of dog. To this day I don't like them...and for no other reason that I can blame other than my Mom's discomfort with genital terminology. That hardly seems fair. Maybe to work through this and to further open my heart to all sentient beings, I should begin a poodle rescue. I could take in all the stray and unwanted poodles. Now that would just be scandalous, wouldn't it? (wink)