1pg essays: Loner Dog & the Advent of Puppygirls & Pain.
Prior to the breakout pandemic of puppygirl culture popularized in the 2020's, my only experience with puppies had been through the gay male community of Davie St, Vancouver. It had been a hot August day of 2015 when a handler and his 4 leashed dogs had entered the store I toiled for. The handler was dressed in a hoodie & shorts as his puppies followed, masked. Dog masks, straps, and shorts. All leather. During my employment at said sex/art/book/giftstore, this was not the oddest sight. But it was a first. The handler had told them all to sit in the open area by the lube as he wandered the store. I asked about it, only having heard about puppy culture through the grapevine. He explained it to the best of his ability, speaking of joyful dehumanization as one would speak of the weather. The dogs, apparently not all his and simply a job he was being paid for as a dog (human) walker, simply sat on their haunches, wagging their silicone tails blissfully.
My curiosity took over me and I asked if they did any tricks. Gleefully, he gave me a stack of dog-bone like crackers and taught me some basic commands, all curiously in what I assume was German or a similar Euro-centric language and let me have at it. Paw. Roll over. Sit. Play dead. Beg. It was an exhilarating rush, and I was determined to have one of my own.
Skip forward a few years and suddenly puppies were all over the internet. Except they were all, primarily trans, women. Male puppies were all but absent, likely hidden in the kennels of gay nightclubs of the real world; on the internet, the puppy pandemic was entirely transfeminine and, while cis puppygirls certainly existed, they were clearly exceptions to the norm.
Forgive my curiosity in this thought, but is there perhaps something in male socialization, forced or not, that truly embodies one to "have that dog in them"? Does the emotional suppression of 'manhood' only leads one's inner dog to howl for freedom? Is one shuttered in the kennels of society, told to be one of many, to be a provider, to be strong and active, to be well behaved, that causes one to desire dehumanization as the humanity forced upon the dog is simply torture?
In Loner Dog you follow a group of tremendously fucked up individuals. They piss in the yard. They lick it up off the soil. They cut themselves and drink to oblivion. They have sex using zip ties that brings their hands to blood clot levels of purple. They shoot their dicks off. Unsurprisingly (but why is this unsurprising and what poisons of the internet have I consumed to consider this the norm of their behavior) they were trans puppygirls. And yet there is a twisted happiness in their nihilistic game of chicken with no intent to ease off the gas.
The internet still espouses a joyful dehumanization to being a puppygirl, but speaking to any of em seriously for more than 10 minutes reveals a mountain of pain behind their joyful guise, as if the traditional leather masks had turned metaphorical in nature. I've no intention to continue observing Loner Dog, as I'd seen enough hapless snuff videos without them being turned into a visual novel, but I sit here, wondering just how much more pain is there to explore. How much more madness is there to breathe? Is there happiness at the end of its dark tunnel?
Anyways. Don't play it. Or do. I'm not your owner.
If you'd like to read more about puppygirls, here's some sources.