Also on the trip, my dog, Leila. She meets my wife's aunt-by-marriage for the first time, a woman celebrated for her, er, individualistic take on life. Aunt F praises the beast, but gets her gender wrong. I thank her for her startling good taste, but point out politely that Leila isn't a "he," but a "she." Aunt F fixes me with a suspicious stare. "If you say so," she mutters.
Thinking my dog's sex is more than a matter of opinion, I reply that it's for Leila to say so, but the conversation goes nowhere.
Incidentally, Leila is the greatest dog on the planet, and I challenge anyone who disagrees with me to step outside and send me fifty dollars.
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