I talk to my dogs all the time. More worryingly they talk back. That is, I put words to what I think they are saying, or what I'd like them to say or an imaginary voice I give them. I'd love to know what they actually understand and what they are actually thinking. What I do know is that they are devoted to me, as I am to them. This is one of the reasons I was drawn Bitch, the Origin of the Female Species at the Theatre Republic as part of Brisbane Festival. In what wouldn't necessarily be considered natural partners, the show looked at dogs, dementia and sexual politics. It switched between the big picture to very intimate moments especially those between an old man and his dog. These moments made my eyes moist. In the list of things that bring out the moisture, dementia and my dad and dogs will do it. This story ticked all those boxes. I'm pretty sure the internal dialogue of the dog at the centre of this tale isn't how my dogs think but it was an interesting portrayal just the same. I would have asked my dogs what they thought when I got home but they were too busy eating the toilet paper they managed to steal while I was out. We had a chat about that.
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