My sister and I grew up with cats, so despite my allergies to pussy, I came to like them. I’ve never had a cat of my own, though, because cat ownership just doesn’t have the same cachet as dog ownership. After all, how many online profile photos have you seen of a guy and his cat? Nope, it’s always a guy and his dog.

For gay men and many lesbians, dogs have become must-have accessories. Not the carry-your-pooch-in-your-purse accessory that Paris Hilton types might have; rather the hold-your-dog-on-a-leash and try-to-look-tough accessory. Owning a dog can show the world you’re responsible, probably a nester and maybe ready to marry. My friends who are looking for sugar daddies always chase guys with big dogs, because the bigger the guy’s dog, the more disposable income he has to spend on it, they say. Well perhaps … but wouldn’t that leave less disposable income for the boyfriend?

My friends who have dogs tell me, on their daily dog walks, their pet becomes an easy conversation piece and a means to hit on guys.

Because many gay men remain single all their lives, a dog can also provide loyal companionship, particularly after a guy turns 40 and nobody wants him anymore. My dog-owning friends take this loyalty seriously. They don’t go out much anymore, because they either have to walk their dogs at night or get up early to walk their dogs in the morning. As for me, the only thing I want waking me up in the morning is a cute guy.

Not long ago, I dated a guy with a greyhound. I’d never thought of greyhounds as cuddly, but I liked the guy, so I did my best to make friends with his dog. Our first dates included walks to the dog park, and I got a kick out of watching the dogs play. They’d chase each other around in circles, and then when they’d catch each other, they’d sniff each other’s butts … not unlike gay men, in a certain way.

Despite the fun dog park visits, the greyhound repeatedly gave me the evil eye and cold shoulder, and after a few weeks greyhound guy stopped calling. I never found out why, but I guessed that his dog had the deciding vote in the matter. I consoled myself with the thought that it was better to be rejected by a jealous dog than by a nice guy. And dog rejection is definitely preferable to cat rejection, as when my cat-owning friend dumped his boyfriend because his boyfriend was allergic to my friend’s cat.

It’s not that all dogs dislike me. Whenever I visit my sister, her lovable but needy mutt Jack gets overly excited and parks himself at my feet, demanding attention. It’s nice to feel loved and needed, but after a half hour of petting I’ve usually had enough, and I scold my sister for not giving Jack enough affection.

A couple years ago, after I came to the realization of how much gay men loved dogs, I decided to dress up as a cute Dalmatian for Halloween. But not in a furry costume – that would’ve been too suffocating. I wanted to show some skin, so I wore clingy shorts, body paint, a tail, ears, and a real dog collar. Walking into a Wal-Mart-sized Petco store to buy the collar, I felt how a straight guy probably feels after walking into a gay video store … completely out of my element and shocked at the overwhelming selection. There were hundreds of different collar styles, even collars with rainbows and rhinestones. Since dogs are colorblind, do they even care what their collar looks like? I finally decided on a black leather collar, because after Halloween, I could always give it to my sister for Jack, or to one of my friends who frequent The Eagle.

My Dalmatian costume went over well, but its cuteness must have overshadowed the intended sexiness, because nobody hit on me. So for future costumes, I’ll be passing on the cute dog look in favor of something more butch – maybe an Alaskan husky.

On second thought, maybe I’ll just get a dog – then I’ll never have to wait for Halloween to get hit on.