writing doodle - as yet untitled - dog park dad

Keeping Victoria, Ruth, Amy, and Ginger straight was a challenge, manageable, but a challenge.  The players have been known to change, but pattern will always be the same: blond, brunette, redhead, and some kind of streaky thing, lather, rinse and repeat.  Ok, so sometimes I'm not so great at names.  Probably this is why they all get some kind of a diminutive when we are together; anyone can be sweetie or honeybunch.  I have a friend, who shall remain nameless, but his mother calls him Gus, who only dated women named Linda; didn't matter what they looked like as long as their name was Linda.  He never wanted to call out the wrong name either in passion or in anger. His collection of Lindas past was a motley crew at best. How his current wife's name turned out to be Pam is beyond my understanding.

When the smallish bundle of fur moved in with me, I had no idea Red didn't share.  She was more possessive than Victoria, Ruth, Amy, and Ginger combined.  When they all had PMS, there was no chocolate, and not enough sugar in the house.

I had heard that an alpha bitch could be territorial.  For some reason, I thought it had to do with her puppies, toys, and, possibly, her food dish.

In this case, not only was I wrong, but it had been spectacular.  She could have given my second wife lessons in h ow to be suspicious.  Whenever I went somewhere with new or different smells, I was sniffed slowly and methodically from stem to stern.  Perfume rated extra time playing before bed. Different soap or shampoo and she wouldn't look me in the eye.

When Tammy, or was it Amy, came over to watch a movie, Red, who had never so much as been on the sofa before, at least to my knowledge, sat between us and wouldn't be moved.  We moved to the floor to let the dog have the sofa, she joined us for a few minutes.  When I turned off the additional lights in the house, the dog was gone, presumably to her kennel.

Red found the pharmacy bag, opened the box of condoms, and chewed on the packaging destroying most of them.

The one night I stayed over with Veronica, or was it Victoria, I came home to massive destruction.  New blankets, new sheets, and new underwear all required before the weekend was over.


Manny encouraged me to go to the dog park. Said it was a panacea and that all would be forgiven.  He has a thing for forgiveness and confession.  Me?  I'm claustrophobic and have no intention of hanging around a broom closet telling a man anything important.  A broom closet with a cutie with cleavage, that's a horse of a different color.

The dog park isn't the worst place I've ever been.  A lion's share of the people walk around talking into their cell phones ignoring their dogs.  It is the six and seven year olds who engage with everyone's dogs.  Red apparently likes kids and likes other dogs; female dog owners are not on her list of people to meet.

After about a month, I know a herd of dogs that Red approves of, the owners only by sight and not by name.  No one knows me either.  I'm just Red's dad.

I miss my sex life.