I am more of a cat person. They're self-cleaning, independent, etc. I don't dislike dogs, I just don't automatically love them. They jump all over you, they smell (don't try to deny it), they slobber, they need you to take them outside at all hours of the day/night, they're messy, they're loud, etc. I just prefer cats. That being said, I still like dogs and will pet and play with them when I visit friends and family. When I was a teenager, we adopted a black lab puppy and when I came home from work she would crawl into my lap and sleep. She still tried this full-grown. I loved that dog. I like most dogs and mostly tolerate their I-just-met-you-and-must-lick-you enthusiasm. I can enter a room with four other people (including babies and small
children) and invariably the dog will seek me out first. It's almost as
if they can sense my wariness. I'm certain they can smell it. The second
I sit down they are up on my lap and sniffing my head. It often takes
the owners several minutes to realize my predicament. I laugh and don't usually mind.
Usually.
I went over to a friend's house the other day. She has a small dog. I think small dogs tend to be on the yappy side in order to make up for their size. They need to be fierce (in dog mind) because they are small. I don't like most small dogs. Dachshunds, Malteses, and terriers are pretty much the only exceptions. Aside from their yappiness, they are plain ugly. Especially the ones that look like a door was slammed in their face. And yes, there ARE ugly cats too, but we're not talking about cats right now. Stay focused. This particular small dog wasn't ugly, but she isn't cute.
As soon as she was allowed out to inspect me, she began licking every piece of exposed skin she could find. I couldn't sit down because she was especially intent on my ears. She started jumping up my leg as if I had a squirrel hidden in my hair somewhere. Her owner would get her to stop, so I could go and sit down. So she'd resume jumping all over me like a toddler who has spied you eating Oreos. Then I'd stand up and the owner would call her off. This cycle was repeated several times until I passed her interrogation. Once I was allowed to sit down, she decided I was now her best friend. She climbed up on the pillow next to my head and presented her rear end to my face several times. She took no less than 1,000 turns around the pillow and finally settled down.
I thought I was in the clear.
All of a sudden, there was a new threat in her doggy mind. The location of this threat was her crotch. So intense was her focus, that all other noise was eclipsed by her determined chewing, licking, and snorting. "The butt nugget must die! I must find it and neutralize it! ALL THINGS DEPEND ON THIS!!!"
The minutes ticked away as I prayed for cessation. I was enjoying conversation with my friend when out of nowhere, A TONGUE WAS IN MY MOUTH. My new best friend decided I must sample what she had been enjoying for the last 30 plus minutes. "Taste the butt nugget, Human! Don't you think it tastes dangerous?!?!" I gagged and did my best to wipe my mouth out discreetly.
The rest of the evening passed without incident. Until then. Came then.
After a brief nap, the dog resumed her crotch patrol. After a while, she stopped. I breathed a sigh of relief, until I noticed her having difficulty getting the last swallow down. All my senses were on high alert for the millions of hours it took. She then stretched and started to stand up. She put her front paws down on my leg, indicating she wanted to crawl into my lap.
Three things happened in the next millisecond.
One: The dog started heaving.
Two: My brain started screaming at my body, "WE ARE AT DEFCON 1. NUCLEAR WAR IS IMMINENT. MOVE NOW!"
Three: The dog regurgitated all of its last meal and all of the butt nuggets it had worked so tirelessly to remove.
Because I had started to get up, the landing area was mostly on the couch. Sadly, my leg was also a casualty. All I could do was sit there, with dog vomit soaking into my pants, while my friend put the dog outside and grabbed some paper towels. All she could manage to say was, "Sorry my dog threw up on you." And truly, what else can you say at that point?
The dog was relegated to the outdoors for the rest of the evening and made sure we knew how much this displeased her.
At least cats have the decency to puke on the carpet or your bed.
