Husbands and Dogs

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It was a slow day at the Bridge. Because there were few customers, vendors were walking around, visiting with each other. There wasn’t much else to do.

I was sitting at my table, working on a bracelet. I hardly ever sit idle at the Bridge.

I could hear a couple of vendors–friends of mine–talking. They were discussing gay marriage, and they were not taking a pro-gay-marriage stance.

Here’s the thing about me: I’ve experienced affection, love, attraction, lust, desire, fondness, passion, and yearning for both men and women (and for more than a couple of people who didn’t choose either of those categories to describe themselves). I’ve had sex with men and sex with women. Gender isn’t a limiting factor as far as I’m concerned.

But straight people tend to assume everyone is straight, and I just let that assumption ride at the Bridge. As a woman on my own, I didn’t want the mostly drunk male vendors hitting on me. No way was I interested in getting involved with any of them. I also did not want any of these drunk dudes harassing me for being a dyke. So while I wasn’t ashamed of my sexual proclivities, I wasn’t out and loud about them either. After a couple of summers working at the Bridge, when I got a boyfriend, well, that just reinforced what people thought they already knew about me.

So I could hear my friends talking not too far from me. I could hear them getting each other all riled up, talking about standards and traditions, saying things like, Huh! Now anybody can get married. Next thing you know, people are going to be able to marry their dog.

I try to stay out of other people’s conversations. I really do. I try not to butt in. I try not to get involved. But that day I lost control and I turned to my friends and said, Well, I know a lot of dogs who would make better husbands than most of the men I know.

My male friend who was involved in the conversation is generally a kind and loving person, and he’s been a good friend to me. He’s also told me about the womanizer he used to be. He looked at me with big, sad eyes, and he said, Ouch. That hurt.

The folks having the hateful little conversation disbanded. I don’t know if I did anything to change their minds, but at least I didn’t have to listen to their ugliness.

I’m not into marriage. I’ve never been married, and I hope I never am. Marriage is an oppressive institution. Yes, some people do have egalitarian marriages where needs are met and love is shared. But marriage is based on property and patriarchy and capitalism and inheritance. Marriage is not my cup of tea.

But how does gay marriage–or even human/dog marriage–detract from traditional man/woman marriage? How does marrying one’s dog hurt other people? (Ok, I know, a dog can’t give verbal consent to marriage or any activities commonly related to marriage–such as visiting in-laws one can’t stand–but let’s just pretend for one moment that the dog wants to get married too.) If someone is so rah-rah-rah 100% into marriage, how does a non-traditional marriage hurt the true believers or the institution as a whole?

I’m not sure most dogs I know would actually make better husbands than most of the men I know. While the dogs are loyal, loving, devoted, and don’t spend the rent money on beer or weed or gambling, none of them have a job or money of their own. Most of them just lay around all day and want to take up more than their fair share of the bed at night. Also, the dogs always expect me feed them and take them on walks. Me, me, me the dogs always seem to be saying.

Sure, I get lonely sometimes, but overall, I think I’m better off on my own.

About Blaize Sun

My name is Blaize Sun. Maybe that's the name my family gave me; maybe it's not. In any case, that's the name I'm using here and now. I've been a rubber tramp for nearly a decade.I like to see places I've never seen before, and I like to visit the places I love again and again. For most of my years on the road, my primary residence was my van. For almost half of the time I was a van dweller, I was going it alone. Now my (male) partner and I (a woman) have a travel trailer we can pull with our truck. We have a little piece of property, and when we're not traveling, we park our little camper there. I was a work camper in a remote National Forest recreation area on a mountain for four seasons. I was a camp host and parking lot attendant for two seasons and wrote a book about my experiences called Confessions of a Work Camper: Tales from the Woods. During the last two seasons as a work camper on that mountain, I was a clerk in a campground store. I'm also a house and pet sitter, and I pick up odd jobs when I can. I'm primarily a writer, but I also create beautiful little collages; hand make hemp jewelry and warm, colorful winter hats; and use my creative and artistic skills to decorate my life and brighten the lives of others. My goal (for my writing and my life) is to be real. I don't like fake, and I don't want to share fake. I want to share my authentic thoughts and feelings. I want to give others space and permission to share their authentic selves. Sometimes I think the best way to support others is to leave them alone and allow them to be. I am more than just a rubber tramp artist. I'm fat. I'm funny. I'm flawed. I try to be kind. I'm often grouchy. I am awed by the stars in the dark desert night. I hope my writing moves people. If my writing makes someone laugh or cry or feel angry or happy or troubled or comforted, I have done my job. If my writing makes someone think and question and try a little harder, I've done my job. If my writing opens a door for someone, changes a life, I have done my job well. I hope you enjoy my blog posts, my word and pictures, the work I've done to express myself in a way others will understand. I hope you appreciate the time and energy I put into each post. I hope you will click the like button each time you like what you have read. I hope you will share posts with the people in your life. I hope you'll leave a comment and share your authentic self with me and this blog's other readers. Thank you for reading.  A writer without readers is very sad indeed.

2 Responses »

  1. I’m married and have been for almost 27 years. I have a daughter who is gay. I’m glad she can marry if she chooses to. Right now, she can’t see herself ever getting married. I’ve had co-workers say they believe marriage should be between a man and a woman. I say, it should be between 2 people who love each other and want to marry. You are so right that the majority of heterosexuals believe others are too. I tell all 3 of my girls that their sexual preference is nobody’s business but their own.

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