Somebody Loves Me

I was over at Anne's house, introducing her to Wonderfalls. We're still friends, but the spark in our relationship died a few years back. I miss the P.D.A. sometimes, but I always miss the love, there being someone who just plain wanted me around. Which was great when I discovered tonight that there was still a love spell over Anne's house — not from Anne, of course, but from her bichon friset, Max.

When we first met, Max did not like me dating Anne. He used to bark at me, scratch me, growl at me, try to bite me, sort of like her father. For my part, Max became my surrogate canine, the hypoallergenic dog Mom would never let me have. Regardless of Max's playful belligerence, I couldn't get enough of hugging him and petting him, sneaking him food. And he'd tolerate it, till one day I found his g-spot. I wrapped my hands around him and started massaging his belly, and that was the key. Now, I come over to Anne's house and after jumping on me, Max automatically rolls over for me, wagging his tail. I rub his belly, and if I stop he'll stretch himself out like a Renaissance Aphrodite, staring up at me, his little legs dog-paddling in the air pitifully.

He's a needy little dog, isn't he?

But wouldn't it be great if people were that easy, just rub their tummy and behind their ears and that's all it takes to make them your BFF? None of this getting to know you bullshit, no need for dinner and drinks. Just roll over and lift up your shirt. Good girl.