Buddha

It's no secret I love dogs. Always have, and probably always will. And I can say this with a full array of disgusting and sometimes painful experiences under my belt with them. Indeed, I've landed in the hospital twice over dog attacks. But, as with people, there are good dogs, bad dogs, aggressive dogs and passive dogs, old dogs and puppies, each an individual with a distinct personality should you choose to get to know them. Further, when you tend to a dog's needs, you earn his loyalty and this relationship can grow into an intense love unlike anything else in life. In a way, it's a kind of psychosis, albeit a debatably positive one.

One of the greatest dogs that I have had the pleasure of knowing belonged to a friend. The dog is no longer with us I'm sad to say but he lives on in our memories. He was a large dog, black with patches of white, a kind of shepherd mix who tended to slobber during physical exertion. If you threw an object in the vicinity of this dog, he would dutifully retrieve it and if you grabbed a giant log, he would attempt same. Growling and furiously tugging at objects three times the size of him, he managed to drag them several yards. He made quite a spectacle of it. And he hated the sight of a human hanging or swinging. He would jump and bite at people hanging from the branch of a tree or swinging on a swingset. I, myself had several shirts torn by his snapping jaws while taunting him by hanging from a treebranch. Insane he was. But so lovable too, loved to be pet, loved any kind of food. And he really loved me.

He would get so excited at times when I came to visit, urine escaped him. (Apparently this honor was bestowed solely on me.) And at one period, maybe half way through his life, he started a new habit during my visits. It would usually go something like this - I would arrive, greet the dog and sit down in the living room or at the kitchen table with my friend to chat. The dog would lie close to us on the floor. A little while after, we would hear a jingling sound, the sound of his tags clinking together as if he were up and about or chewing at a fleabite. Then we would look over at the dog and see him gnawing frantically at the base of his testicles. At this point there was no use doing anything as he was locked into a process that was unstoppable (believe me we tried). We would look on embarassedly to watch his pink monster emerge from its sheath and sprinkle doggie cum all over the floor in front of us. The whole thing done in under a minute. As you can imagine, I laughed helplessly during these displays. My friend, not so much, she having to clean it up and everything before he lapped it all back up (I know, vile.)

And so he holds a special place in my heart, the only dog that ever made me feel sexy. His name is the title of this post.