I normally save the non-political posts for the weekend, but right now I need to ask my readers for some advice concerning what you might call a family emergency.

(Besides, the world of politics is making me even angrier than usual today. I haven't read the Atlantic piece yet, but I ran into a creep who insisted that it somehow validates the "darkened video" smear. Kee-RIST. The crap just never dies...!)

(Enough. Must think pleasant thoughts....)

This is a story about a shaggy dog. My dog, Bella.

Back in 2001, while driving through an industrial part of town around 4 a.m., we found her wandering in a rainstorm. She was drenched and miserable -- and collar-free. She appeared to be almost full-grown, but still acted like a puppy. Of course, we instantly fell in love with the creature. That night, she commandeered the bed and graciously invited us to share it with her. We had to change the sheets twice.

Ever since, she has slept on soft comforters and dined on a variety of meats, even on days when we had only pasta. She has had a good life.

What you are about to read is the key sentence of our tale: The vet said that she was already fixed.

We presumed that the operation explained why she had nine nipples, asymmetrically placed.

As the years passed, she never showed any sign of a sexual interest in any other dog, and they never cared about her. She once shared quarters with an un-fixed male lab for quite a few months. Nothing. No sparks. She has lived in apartment buildings and guest houses surrounded by other canines. Again, no interest. She has never shown any of the symptoms of being in heat.

Until a couple of days ago.

It's unmistakable. I'm not just talking about the enlarged nipples and private pooch parts. Every male dog in the neighborhood is camping on the front doorstep, literally scratching to get in as I write these words. It's like The Omega Man. Except with dogs.

I fear that one of her suitors may have, er, succeeded in making his case. It happened (if it happened) before I came to understand the nature of Bella's condition. The successful swain was a Chihuahua named Taco, who was tiny enough to sneak under the gate. His antics have led to several disgusting jokes about taco sauce, not least because his obscenely disproportionate weapon of war resembles a bottle of La Victoria. (It is bigger than he is. The physics involved would baffle Dr. Lao.)

My virginal little girl may now be a soiled slut. The possible outcome of her trampish behavior had me worried for a while. But online research suggests that any Taco-ized offspring may look like this fellow, in which case finding homes for five or six new pups should not prove difficult.

The conundrum remains. That's why I call upon the group mind to answer this question: Can a "fixed" animal become un-fixed over time?

Could the vet have been wrong in her pronouncement? If so, then why did Bella first enter heat in the doggy equivalent of middle age? (No cracks about Cher or Joan Collins, please.) How can such things be?