When my wife and I finally decided to have dogs, we agreed that we would love them unconditionally. Regardless of age, gender, or sexual orientation.
Then we found out that our boys, Miles and Crackers, are gay.
Okay, so neither one of them has officially come out to me or my wife, but their behavior…kind of speaks for itself.
I’ve seen how Crackers gets his little red rocket up whenever Miles jumps on him. I’ve seen how Miles, in turn, sniffs Crackers’s red rocket with a big, goofy grin on his face.
I had always heard stories of parents who struggle with their children coming out, and I’ll admit, it was a little tough for me to accept.
I mean, MY dogs? Gay? I just couldn’t fathom it. I used to slip Miles old issues of Hustler after I was done with them. I let Crackers watch Nymphomaniac on Netflix when my wife wasn’t around, for Pete’s sake!
Immediately I blamed myself. If I had just spent a little more time with them, maybe they wouldn’t have gone off the beaten path of straightness.
After some thought on the idea, though, I just assumed that Miles and Crackers picked up homosexual preferences during their time in the foster system.
It wasn’t my fault. It was the system’s fault.
I’m not saying that I tried to “pray the gay away,” but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t contact PetSmart to see if they had any trainers who specialized in gay dog conversion therapy (they didn’t).
Then I tried taking them to church with me, but we got thrown out. So much for religious people being open-minded.
Finally, though, I just decided to man up and accept Miles and Crackers as they are.
Because I have nothing against gay dogs.