America sure loves its dogs. Coming from Australia, I have been both shocked and delighted at the abundance of four-legged friends in New York. The streets are a veritable feast of pugs, Boston terriers, and rescued mutts, and there seems to be a cute pooch on every corner. I may/may not be using my housemate’s dog as a way to strike up conversations in the park. (Hey, I’m a long way from home, stop judging me!)
I'm also on constant lookout for a Lena Dunham sighting, so it's pretty fitting that The New Yorker just released an article about the prolific local and her dog.
Dunham details her lifelong lust for a pet dog of her own. At the age of fifteen, Lena was walking down the main drag of Brooklyn Heights when she came across a booth set up by an animal rescue group. The organization's leader quickly convinced her to adopt three puppies, which Lena describes as a fairly traumatic experience. She writes, “As [this man] drove me out of my neighborhood, away from the bagel shops and the squash players, and into industrial Brooklyn, I suddenly recalled my mother’s countless warnings about 'climbing into vans with strangers.' Somehow, this situation seemed outside the bounds of her edict. “ Lena’s parents eventually made her return the puppies.
Lena Dunham discusses the recent adoption of her dog Lamby. In the article, Dunham perfectly sums up the relationship many of us have with our dogs: a mix of love and pure frustration. She writes: “Lamby’s fine if it’s just him and me, working or eating or listening to music. But any attempt on my part to be alone—meditating, showering, walking out into the hallway to dump trash down the chute—results in that same siren sound. Sometimes he takes a break to flash his erection at me, red as a sunburn and made even more vulgar by the jaunty bandana the groomer has tied around his neck”. Cute.
Images courtesy of blog.alldayeveryday.com, usmagazine.com, newyorker.com