Sex with Pets

G'day amigos! Hola mates!

So I'm dog-sitting my sister's runt of a black Miniature Schnauzer this week. And as my sis has a television, last night I decided, Why not make a night of it? I requested the company of my beloved and made a quick trip to the supermarchet for a frozen pizza, a bottle of wine, and some Pepperidge Farm Pirouettes (only the finest for my Dear!).

Thus ensued a romantic evening watching Still Standing, yet another sitcom featuring some fat-assed, third-rate comedian who plays a guy's guy, a fella's fella, the kind who makes dick jokes and spins hilarious yarns about how he ended up at Hooters instead of at the school gymnasium to watch his daughter's class play. You know, the kind of guy for whom Hallmark's Father's Day cards about obsessing over the remote control are made. And have you ever noticed that the asswipes on these shows (add King of Queens and The World According to Jim to the list) always have out-of-their-league wives?

In last night's episode, the fat dude and his wife were fretting over the size of their teenage son's penis. What I'm getting at, folks, is that my lover and I were sharing the kind of special evening of which dreams are made: frozen pizza, discount wine, Pirouettes, and network television.

Naturally, then, it was all we could do to keep our hands to ourselves. By which I mean we began to engage in what my 8th grade health instructor called "heavy petting." We moved to the air mattress my sister had generously provided. And it was then that I noticed the dog, whose anonymity I will protect via the alias "Ned," was staring intently at us from the couch. Not just curiously. He was oggling. Like a pervert. Or perhaps, more accurately, like an anthropologist closely studying an exotic religious rite of some tribe.

It was too weird. Me and Ned are long-time bros. And to have a long-time bro watch...Ladies and gentleman, I was uncomfortable. I put him in his cage in the next room. My Sweet thought I was overreacting.

One thing led to another...We should have had this talk long ago, A2K, but when a grown man and a grown woman are in love, or drunk off their asses...

And Ned started barking (this all took place in a very small condo). "Effing Ess! Son-of-a-mothereffing piece of ess!" said I. I let him out. He wanted to play. So did I. Not with him.

Yet my lovely, focused, attentive, totally rad Darling was undaunted. Again, we laid together. She kissed me on the mouth. Ned licked me on the bottom of the foot. A lot. I began to "lose my mojo." Or, speaking metaphorically, "the sensation of a dog licking my foot as if it were covered in gravy caused my previously elongated genitalia to go slightly flaccid."

Let's cut to the happy ending. Ned passed out. The lovers embraced. Fade to black.

Okay, I'm curious. What do y'all do? Quarrantine man's best friend? Or do you just let Fido watch?

Freaks! All of you!