Dog day afternoon

Anyone who was in marching band in high school knows the joys of pre-term summer band practice, and those who endured this rite in a Southern state will recall how much the August heat and humidity added to the fun. I went to high school in Georgia, at a school whose football team gave students and parents little reason to look forward to games. The responsibility fell to the band, then, to give school supporters something to cheer about at half time. That meant we practiced extra hard, and extra long.

Diversions were few and far between, and usually welcomed. But some diversions are a mixed blessing. So it was when two dogs joined us for marching band practice one day.

The incident may not have made such an impression on today's teenagers, but that was a gentler and more innocent era. The kids at that time were less jaded than today's youth, and would have gone into paroxysms of embarrassed giggling at the mere whisper of a word such as "nipple" or "buttock." It was into this cultural milieu that two male dogs entered, one sweltering August afternoon.

Two hundred forty of us were arranged in a circular formation, facing inward. The dogs strolled into the middle of the circle. This alone would have been sufficient distraction to relieve us of practice for a few precious minutes. But the dogs didn't just stand there. Oblivious to their audience, they began to engage in Unnatural Acts.

They took their time, and they took turns. They were very thorough. By the time they were finished, the rehearsal was in chaos. The band director had no chance of recovering the group and getting back to work. It was the end of the day's practice session.

Different kids dealt with the shock in their own ways. Many laughed and many blushed. A few wept. Some noisily cheered the dogs on. Some even prayed - at least I assume that's what they meant by "Oh my God, oh my God!" Others had to sit down right where they were, their knees shaking or their heads spinning. One walked in circles, staring at the ground and shaking her head slowly in disbelief, her lips forming the word, "No," over and over again. Some of the boys engaged in a philosophical analysis of the event, raising thought-provoking points such as, "Whoa! Did you see that?!?!" The band director's megaphone-shaded voice cut through the din from time to time, unheeded but adding color to the audio environment.

All in all, a memorable day for everyone except, probably, the dogs themselves, who most likely didn't dwell on it much.