Friday, September 14, 2007

Puppy kisses…

I have a confession. I’m a jealous, jealous man.

I’ve known Suki now for about three and a half years and, when I come home, she often walks right by without noticing me.

Suki is our dog, you see.

When Vicky comes home, Suki runs to her and gives her kisses and kisses. Suki was Vicky’s dog before Vicky and I met.

So, who am I jealous of? The one kissing my wife?


Well, in a way, maybe.

The thing is, I wonder why Suki doesn’t give me kisses. What am I? Chopped liver? NO. Because she’d kiss that! What’s wrong with me that I don’t get puppy kisses? Why don’t I get slathered with the tongue that has but recently slurped on her own asshole?

(Maybe that’s why some people just aren’t “pet people”.)

I’ve gotten cat kisses. I come from a cat background. My first long term relationship with an animal (oh, please god, don’t ever let me use that phrase again!) was with a cat. Her name was Mia and from the time I was about 10 to the time I was about 18, she lived with us at my mom’s house. Mostly, though, she was my friend – and fuck everybody else. When I was sick, she stayed by my side. When I was sad, she comforted me. She was very sweet and loving.

(“Pet people” are kind of… crazy.)

Most recently, my cats have been Bando and Alacrity, though Vicky and I also live with her cat Othello and an increasingly transient Harley. Bandoo died a while back. He was the sweetest of all the universe’s creations. Absolutely loving and loyal and a dear friend.

After he died, Alacrity and I drew closer. Alacrity is kind of the town slut, though. He’ll give kisses to anybody… anything! Bandoo’s kisses were soft and nice. Alacrity… again, he’s a slut.

But no puppy kisses.

Oh, there have been a few now and then but I never got the feeling we had any kind of relationship.

Then, this morning, after returning from the gym, Suki rose and crawled over to the edge of the bed to greet me. She licked my arm, which is unusual for her (or me), and looked up at me. There was the moment of recognition, as if she was psychically transmitting the phrase, “When I come over here and sit like this, it means I want to kiss you, you dork!”

Okay, I thought, so I leaned towards her. I looked her in the eye. Then, she tilted her head and laid a big, fat, wet one on my nose.

Thank you, Suki. Now, where’s a Kleenex…?

1 comment:

Jenn from WA said...

Check Vicky's pockets. Maybe she hides treats in them and that's why Suki likes her more. I'm just saying maybe.