The Dog I Love

Since I've added photos of Dudley, world's cutest dog, to the blog, I figured I'd write an ode to my Dudders.

He's a Lhasa Apso with maybe a little Shi-Tzu thrown in. But he's not a tiny dog. About 27 pounds at last check. And his hair grows way too fast. I love it when he's all fluffy and furry, with hair between 1 and 2 inches long. It looks scruffy and his paws are little puffy posts. He has a couple extra teeth on the bottom row. Some say that is because he was bred too closely in a "puppy mill" environment. In breeding, I suppose. Well, that kinda makes sense to me. I used to know a human with too many teeth and he could easily have been progeny to an in-bred union.

My sister and I had a friend growing up, Little Jimmy. Jim had weird teeth, too. Too many that more than filled his mouth. In thinking back on his family, they seemed to be of hillbilly stock. Mom lived on nicotine and caffeine and was painfully thin. Sister looked just like her and was always in and out of trouble. Little Jimmy escaped into a fantasy world of Barbra Streisand and Bette Midler. Yes - he was our first gay friend. And wow, what an education he provided! When we got into high school, Jim began discussing his life as a homosexual. I also seem to remember some stint as a male prostitute. But, knowing Jim, it could have been a fantasy career.

During the summers, he hung out with a guy named Dave, who he met while working at Hersheypark. I started hanging out with the two of them and I got a crush on Dave. Silly me, I was too young to figure out that he must have been gay, too. I finally got the hint after I planted a kiss on him one evening and he nearly gagged and told me he was queer. Subtlety wasn't working on me. I was 18. It was at that moment I began developing "gay-dar".

But, I don't have to worry if rambunctious and sweet Dudley is gay or not. It certainly doesn't matter if this little love prefers boy or girl dogs, as long as he prefers ME! When I take him to the dog park, I ONLY have eyes for Dudley! Other pooches pale by comparison. When I visit him at my sister's house, I make her sick with my insistent proclamations of "I LOVE you!!" "I LOVE you!!" over and over. But, I can't help myself. I only want to cuddle and coo when Dudley is around. It is a disease, I suppose. But I hope I never find the cure!