True Love

Faux Paws

Faux Paws

Otis makes me smile and laugh every day all day long. Sometimes I even clap my hands. Meaning his wonderfulness drives me literally toward applause.

When asked what’s my favourite expression of his, what do I like about him best, I was stumped for answering because I love literally every last goddamned thing about him. I mean I even love his anus. The other day I loudly praised its adorableness. Dylan shook his head, resigned, baffled and disbelieving. “You hear that Otis,” Dylan said, “she really likes your asshole.” Dylan’s good at speaking wryly, he has uselessly perfected wryness, what with mostly just me around to admire the achievement.

To try to answer the question though, as far as favourite expressions, moments, things, I think it’s when I spy Otis from behind lying there at total attention, paws outstretched, up on the elevated puffy big dark brown fun fur bed gazing intently out the window, guarding the house from every possible evil outside attack. Or when he’s all quiet, earnest and depressed, lick lick licking his big sweet paws. Captain Cleanpaws forever on the job. I jump then at him and ambush him with attacking cuddles, gleefully shouting, “Well hello there” or “I love you, I love you, I love you!” Otis flings his head backward to look fervently my way, startled, watchful, urgent, his canine eyes big and comically wide. He lunges at me at once, fearfully, crazily, to lick lick lick my whole face and neck and hair, and sneaks too some halfway nibbles and bites helplessly in there. Then he feels guilty and worried about the helpless bites so he lick lick licks me everywhere to cover and make up for the mostly harmless excitement driven biting.

Then I howl at him and rile him good and he howls back and I howl and he howls and we howl together like two crazy lunatics in love. Dylan nearby regards us, gazing askance, resigned, baffled and unbelieving, locked forever as he is in his state of equal parts resignation, wryness, affection and defeat. Dylan knows I’m mad for him too but Otis kind of makes me delirious. Plus don’t get me started over the nightly spoonings. Dylan’s a bit replaced in this regard. I put Otis into spoon position and he’s all warm and soft and extra bed time malleable smoosh. I fall asleep smiling holding both his very clean paws in both my love clenched hands. Then Otis end of the day loudly happy sighs and sometimes snores adorably too, softly dreaming into night.

In the morning, I wake with my arms still tightly around him, both paws in both hands and we’re still spooning. He doesn’t break from form the entire night! My heart beats full from such perfection. I could cry that dog gives me such delight, it’s a good thing Dylan isn’t the jealous type.


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