Matthew,” he said. The vet was a young man, not much older than me. He wore a white coat with his name stitched into it in red thread. He looked good. I remembered how I had wanted to be a veterinarian when I was a child, but the prospect of med school was just too overwhelming. I wanted to help animals, but it seemed as if the only way to do this was through the terrible portals of organic chemistry and cell biology. So, I’d thought: Forget that. “What seems to be the problem?”
“He’s really out of control,” I said. “He humps everything, pees everywhere, knocks people over when they come through the door, stands there and barks at you if you try to tell him no.”
“And having him neutered hasn’t changed any of this,” said the doctor.
“No,” I said. “He hasn’t … slowed down at all.”
“Hm,” said the doctor. “Well, let’s take a look.”
The vet listened to Matt with a stethoscope as the dog squirmed and bounced. It was as if he were the dog equivalent of young Elvis.
After a while, the doc took the stethoscope out of his ears. “Well, there’s nothing wrong with him,” he said. “He just needs firmness, and training. He’s developed some bad habits. You need to show him who’s boss.”
“My mother said you discussed … some other option?”
The vet thought about this for a moment, puzzled, then understanding broke through. “Ah,” he said. “Well, there is one thing we can do. It’s experimental. But we could give the dog hormones, you know, that would have a sedating effect. It’s an experimental protocol.”
I listened to the vet’s words as if they were reaching me from a great distance. If I understood him correctly, what he was suggesting was we give Matthew female dog hormones. The theory being that a little estrogen might provide perspective.
This was a long time ago, and to be honest I can’t remember the exact names of the drugs the vet had in mind, and in retrospect it seems insane, like something I must have dreamed. But a little research on the always reliable internet suggests that this is a course of treatment provided for aggressive male dogs, at least in some instances.
The drug the doctor had in mind was probably not diethylstilbestrol, although this particular compound was one that had crossed the Boylan family threshold once before. My mother had been given this drug, a synthetic hormone, during her pregnancy with me, in fact, since she was in her forties then and was considered to be at elevated risk for miscarriage.
DES was taken off the market in 1971, though, after scientists concluded that it caused cancer, and birth defects, and a host of other issues. One side effect of DES was an alleged increase in intersex and transsexual “conditions” for fetuses exposed to the drug in utero. I’m not especially swayed by this connection, and not only because the science is still inconclusive. I don’t discount the effect of hormones upon our sense of self. But we are more than our chemicals, and surely some aspect of our souls comes from a place we cannot name.
“And would this be safe? For Matt, I mean?”
The doctor shrugged. “I wouldn’t recommend it.”
“What are the risks?”
“Well, you know,” the doctor said. “You’d be feminizing your dog.”
“I think my mother thinks he’d just calm down a little.”
“Well, he might calm down,” said the doctor. “But he wouldn’t be—you know. The same dog.”
All at once we were in the heart of a complex philosophical conversation.
“Is it dangerous?” This wasn’t the question I really wanted to ask.
“Not dangerous exactly,” the doctor said. “I just think there are better methods.”
“Such as …?”
“I think you should try to train your dog,” he said. “You ought to work with him. Drugs are the easy way out.”
I knew what he meant. But if I understood my mother correctly, the easy way out was exactly what we’d been looking for. Plus, what did it mean, that the dog would be feminized? So like, if we were driving in a car, Matt the Mutt would no longer be quite so reluctant to ask for directions? If we went to visit a friend, would Matt the Mutt henceforward insist that we just bring our host a little present?
“We can give you a sample if you want to give it a try,” the doctor said.
“But you’re saying you think it’s a bad idea?”
“Like I said,” the vet said. “You might not recognize your dog