Private Spaces

Pets are immodest. People are not. I often wonder about the origins of modesty.  Yes, I have been raised to accept the burdens of living in a clothed society.  I am comfortable in layers of restrictive, fashionable garments and think nothing of my morning routine rummaging through closets, drawers, baskets, washing machine (and dryer) and those items waiting to be pressed to find whatever “look” is required for my day.

Oh to be someone’s pet. How lovely to live larger than life for all to admire. How different my life would be if I was worry free from the thought of donning on my stretchy pants or robe or swimsuit. Just tumble out of bed throw open the curtains and live.

I have not researched this topic in any detail.  But I am in a quandary and will stay here for a while.  I wonder why the blind person would feel the need to dress to care for their pet. Maybe they don’t if remaining indoors.

Wonderful! Need to get to those clothing optional resorts for more insightful (no pun intended) glimpses…

And while I am in the midst of this discussion, I feel the need to share an opinion…I believe that on the extreme edge of human arrogance, there are those who buy clothing for their pets and then embarrass the rest of us by displaying their better half in an endless parade of stupidity.  Really!! OMG!! Animal psychologists have written libraries on this subject.  The experts will tell you that the natural loving bond between human and pet will forever change once that garment is introduced.  The companion will feel subjugated, second class and dignity goes out the window. The ego belonging to the human, however, is blown up disproportionately large.

Some in Hollywood got it right however.  Rin Tin Tin, Lassie, Trigger and Bullet (Roy Roger’s dog), Milo and Otis, the Geico lizard and the latest generations of animal actors are au natural.  I, for one, am pleased.  But I digress…

The subject of modesty was broached recently in the bathroom of a client.

I was busy…reading…and Phoenix came in. The dog came in wagging her tail.  The dog came in wagging her tail and brought a Frisbee for me to entertain her.  She didn’t understand that she had entered the twilight zone.  You know, that forbidden of all human places where normal interactions should not occur.

There we were together in a small space where activities are recognizably limited for a pairing of human and dog. She didn’t care.  She wanted attention.  I wanted privacy and time for meditation in a room in the house usually reserved for people.

So I began to giggle.  I sat there with my magazine and laughed and Phoenix dropped the Frisbee and retrieved a chew toy to bring in to me.

I was now in real trouble because if I moved, she would expect me to throw one of her toys.  If I threw one of her toys, however, it would hit the hallway wall and bounce right back into the bathroom. We could play this game forever and I wouldn’t be the least bit breathless and I considered it.

Well after a minute or two of her poised between her two favorite play things and my having resorted to changing positions, I tossed the chew toy towards the pass through in the hall and she scooted after it for a period just long enough for me to regain my dignity, wash my hands and join her.

Nothing really happened. No breach of modesty. No explanation required.

A predicament perhaps, but between human and canine the boundaries are somewhat blurred.  Next time, I will close the bathroom door.