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Dog Balls

I saw a lot of dogs this week. Small dogs, fluffy dogs, loud dogs, wild dogs: these creatures were everywhere.

I also saw some male dogs. I know they were male because they had balls. Big balls. Big dog balls, velveteen squishy shapes trading space between haunches, like a bodybuilder shimmying their shoulders after an aggressive lift. They steal attention and focus: they are big dog balls.

They’re like human balls. If you get close to them – Even if only by a few feet! – these dog balls are surprisingly personable. They look like the balls of men I’ve been with albeit tidier, less saggy. They don’t droop like human balls. They’re more well kept. They’re, in some ways, a sophisticated design alternative to the often matted mess of human balls, a lesson to the men who seek prepubescent shaved balls for aesthetics.

They’re uncomfortably masculine. The Rhodesian Ridgeback, whose balls looked like two fat meatballs, was distracting as he raced around the park, chasing every girl dog in sight, attempting to show them what his balls were used for. The Neapolitan Mastiff I saw on a street corner, whose head I pet and gifted me a palmful of slobber, had blue-ish balls that looked like shaved chinchillas popping out from burrows. You could barely contain the two in your hands, if he gave them to you.

Then, the dogs without balls, whose inflated sacks are almost comical attempts to represent falls from manhood. They, too, are tidy and leave a lot of room for the imagination, something that unnecessarily fully formed male dogs don’t have. And why do they still have their big dog balls anyway? We already have enough dogs, like we already have enough people: they should be neutered. These hypnotizing rear talismans are some sort of special, sure, but they shouldn’t exist. The deflated space should. The dog balls should disappear.

But, still, when you see them, you cannot help but look. It’s like seeing a man without pants on yet, unlike a human, these dogs proudly display them, unashamed by their almost personable nakedness. It’s strange. It’s somewhat upsetting, something that you almost feel the need to look away from. Are you being indecent stealing a peek? Is it impolite to not acknowledge them? Can you ask the human the dog belongs to why they are there? Do dog balls exist if we do not regard them as the plump monster eyes that they are?

Photo via.

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