I am happy to announce the winners of the three copies of A Common Pornography. Here, in all their glory, are my three favorite entries:
From Mark Russell (I’m still laughing about this one):
I had a black lab named Toby who was headstrong and oversexed, to put it mildly. Though our back yard was surrounded by a six foot tall fence, he would routinely get out. He accomplished this herculean feat by getting a running start and leaping at the top of the fence like a puma. He would catch the top of the fence with his front paws, and then claw his way up furiously with his back paws until he was perched atop the fence, at which point he would bound off toward the other side and the adventures that it surely awaited. By the time we caught up with him, he was usually busy humping a confused calf or an abandoned mop.
One day, my brother and I were tasked with the chore of catching Toby and bringing him inside. Not wanting to come in, he crouched in the corner of the garden by the rhubarb. He tantalized us with the possibility of cornering him, but every time we approached, he effortlessly bolted away and holed up in a different corner of the yard, starting the game over again. This went on for about half an hour and we were no closer to bringing him in than we were in the beginning. Finally, I turned to my brother and said that it was getting late and that if we ever wanted to go inside, we had to devise a better stratagem. That was when I suggested to my little brother that he should “present himself” to Toby by getting down on all fours as if to allow himself to be mounted. He was skeptical at first, but it’s a testament to just how bereft of alternatives we were that he soon agreed to it.
He got down on his hands and knees, arched his back (I give him points for coming up with that little extra touch) and stuck his posterior out seductively towards the dog. In his satyr-like horniness, Toby fell for the ruse and made a beeline for my brother’s ass. Neither of us had anticipated the purpose and speed with which the lab detected and honed in on the bait we had offered him. My brother, seeing this missile-like dog rapidly closing in on stealing his innocence forever, broke his position and ran into the house crying.
On the plus side, I was finally able to catch Toby. On the down side, we were soon thereafter forced to give him away.
There’s not much to say about my childhood hamsters. They were cheap, slept by day, dug at night, and died after a year or so. Sometimes they would never even get a proper name and lived their whole life as Hamster.
Hamster escaped again. Did you clean Hamster’s cage Ryan? Mom, I need some food for Hamster. Hey(new friend)! Wanna see my hamster? His name is Hamster. Here…have a Cheetoh, Hamster. You’re a good hamster, Hamster.
Well, I guess there was something to say about Hamster.
My childhood dog was named Zowie, that was short for her full name, Sauerkraut Lady. I named her myself. She once ate an entire apple pie, glass pie plate included. She was fine after surgery.