First Nation Under Dog

So Hazel is pretty cool so far. Aside from the fact that I have had to find dogwalkers for her since my toe got AIDS, she's been really easy. And she gives lots of doggie snuggles and love and lies down like a mermaid with her legs behind her.

One thing I've been concerned about, though, is her vagina. Mainly because it is my belief that vaginas are internal, and hers is kind of more protruding than one might hope. It's like this girl ball-sack, devoid of balls, but with a small donut-like vagina in the middle. It's disturbing. Vaginas kind of flex sometimes, as we all know, but it is one of those things that no one ever witnesses unless they are a gynecologist. Unfortunately I have been forced to witness many, many dog vagina flexings over the past few weeks. It's disturbing and makes me self conscious, like if my vagina were on display would it be so simultaneously horrifying and fascinating? If I had an external vagina I would try to be relaxed all the time so I wouldn't call attention to it.

I was sitting at jiu jitsu, not participating because my toe is made of Satan, when my sister (who was hanging out with Hazel at my house) texted me to let me know that some shit was going down at home.

Wherein I transcribe the texts (can you transcribe something that has already been written? I don't know. Insert a more accurate verb if you like. I will consider suggestions for alternatives.):

Sister: There is a feather from the couch stuck in Hazel's vadge. (It's a couch that expels feathers all over the place. It's fucking annoying as hell.)

Me: Holy shit. That's disturbing. (This after I sprained my trachea holding back the laughter)

Sister: It is staying there. I am not extracting that feather.

Me: If you had a feather in your vagina would you want it to stay there?

Sister: Have you seen Hazel's vadge? The reason a feather is stuck there is because it is out there grabbing shit. She has a grabby vagina.

Me: It's an unsettling vadge, I admit. Foreign body on vagina, though.

Sister: She doesn't care. She isn't even licking it.

Me: Oh god.

Sister: It's at the nine o'clock location.

Me: If you take her outside it might just come off. Does it seem like wind might get it off?

Sister: I'm leaving the feather where it is. You don't know what it's like. You're not here.

Me: I'm very disturbed.

By the time I came home the feather was gone so I didn't have to agonize over what to do about it. Because I'd want to step in and help a dog out, but at the same time I'm just not up for minor procedures on dog vaginas. I just feel like that's an area I want to stay away from, mentally.

We decided that her Native American name is Hazel Feathervadge.