Bitches in Heat and the Dogs Who Love Them
We have one male in our home, a single boy among eight females. Some of our females are spayed for various reasons and will live out their lives with us happily ever after but four are not. And when those bitches come into heat our boy, Kat, knows it. He also knows what to do about it. Last week, for example, Wasabi was in heat and right in her prime and he knew it. This time, lucky boy, he was allowed to breed Wasabi and breed they did, eleven times over the period of a bit more than one week. As soon as her time was over she growled him off and he understood.
Then Abigail went into heat. Our bad luck she didn’t go into heat at the same time as Wasabi but one week after and this time he was not allowed to breed. So instead of last weeks’ experience, with Wasabi flirting and dancing and him flirting and dancing right back, tails wagging, snuggling, licking ears and generally loving each other, followed by a tie, this week as much as he is desperate for us to understand that Abigail is in heat, we don’t seem to get it. Worse, as much as he pathetically whimpers, whines, claws at doors, crates, barred gates and windows, we aren’t seeming to understand that Abigail is calling him and she needs him right now! As I look up from my desk Kat is standing in front of the gate across my office door which prevents him from getting to Abigail. Of course Abigail is playing right along, lying a foot from the gate on the other side slowly wagging her tail and batting her eyelashes at him. If there was ever a more perfect name than the designation ‘bitch’ for a female dog, especially one in heat, I’ve never heard it.
At night I am now sleeping in a separate bedroom from my wife so that Kat is with me and away from Abigail. Risa, Shoshi and Fiona join us. The rest stay with Darlah. Just about all night long Kat comes to me to ask if he can please go see Abigail now. It reminds me of our children, once upon a time when they were young, asking repeatedly “are we there yet?” In Kat’s case he jumps on the bed, off the bed, snuffles at the closed bedroom door, back on the bed again trying to make his suddenly dumb daddy understand that Abigail really needs him right now. “Don’t you understand, Daddy? Abigail NEEDS me” he says in his best telepathic manner, willing me to understand and let him out.
He has finally settled down sitting beside my leg and is looking up at me with those big wide open eyes of his. He’s not quite sure why I’m being so particularly dense but he’s no dummy and he realizes I control the gate. In fact, he is so very bright and alert at the moment I wish I was showing him this weekend. Instead, we’re showing the bitch and she is in a mood.
We are travelling to the dog show in our van each day. We bring Treasure, Fiona and Abigail. But we are also picking up our friend Val and she’s bringing her fantastic Tibetan Terrier and another male dog she is showing this weekend. Imagine, if you will, five dogs in the van together for no less than 4 ½ hours each day, back and forth from our home to Val’s to the show. My two other girls could care less that Abigail is in heat but Val’s two males are certain to be in a special mood by the time we arrive at the show. We warned Val but she says this happens all the time in the show world so the boys have to learn to tough it out. I think she’s nuts and I’m really glad I’m driving, leaving Darlah and Val to deal with the whining and whimpering while I zone out and focus totally on the road.
Wish us luck this weekend.
May 7, 2009