I am writing this as I realize tomorrow is the grand American Thanksgiving and animals do embarrassing things when you have guests. I love my dogs. All three of them. What they do when no one is around does not bother me…but when there is company it can be excruciating.

How embarrassing is it to be having a nice glass of wine with friends, and have, Finn,  your very hairy terrier plop herself down in front of you all and decide it’s feminine hygiene time? Not only does she have to dig through the hair with her tongue, she spends copious amounts of time on the actual cleaning with appropriate slurpy noises. And she will not stop. I start spieling inanities such as 'when you can see her head she looks just like the shroud of Turin!' But no, the guests are fixated on this act of contortionism and bad manners.

Even worse is when the dogs decide to help each other with the above mentioned feminine hygiene. They are far too thorough and refuse to be separated. I feel badly even trying to distract them as it brings even more attention to the ‘act’.  ‘Two of them just grooming each other! Isn’t it cute?’ I sputter out nervously. This is especially embarrassing when in-laws of two lesbian spouses are visiting. They must feel like calling the humane society as these canines must have seen way too much for their little doggy eyes.

My spaniel, Emma and Bodhi the Shepherd are playmates. They roll around, mouth each other and generally have a ball. Everyone enjoys watching the fun. But in the middle of hors d’oeuvres the Shepherd will decide to assert dominance. This means she straddles the spaniel (either end – the head is the worst) and humps…and  humps and humps.

Then there is the classic. Everyone is seated at the table, hopefully enjoying their meal. Our dogs spread out and around the table sleeping while we eat. Just tradition. Make ‘em part of the family. Sometimes however my Bodhi acts like rude Uncle Bob. You’ll notice guests looking suspiciously at each other at first over their coq au vin, then it hits me too. Bodhi has cut the cheese. Big time. She is a champion flatulator and within seconds the table is enveloped in German Shepherd whoofie. I clear up any mistaken blame and explain it is the dog. We wait for the air to clear before continue eating with everyone waving their napkins over my carefully prepared meal. I apologize profusely and say she has digestive issues. She doesn’t – she just farts.

My friends are not prisses, but it’s still a little embarrassing to have your dogs engage in human socially unacceptable behaviour. When the boss is in, when people are visiting for the first time…well, I could do without it. I think they could too.

So my American friends – on your fine Thanksgiving Day tomorrow, I have a suggestion for you – put the pets in the bedroom. You don’t want Fluffy walking down the middle of the table heading for the turkey leaving a trail of kitty litter behind.

Happy Thanksgiving to all.