Actually, Puppy Jack doesn't even try to keep it a secret. He flaunts his underage interspecies same-sex romance on the front porch, for all to see. The drivers of flat-bed semi trucks soon to be loaded with rocks. FedEx men. UPS women. The two boys who walk barefoot over a mile down our gravel road, then another mile on the hot blacktop to the deeper section of creek by the low water bridge, just because there's nothing to do around here in the summer but walk to a swimmin' hole and then sweat to death with bloody feet on your way home.
It's not so much a romance, I think, as a dalliance. Puppy Jack has himself a hump buddy. It's the black and white tuxedo cat (as if they come in another color) that was also hump buddies with Tank the Beagle. I think that cat is askin' for it. He makes no move to move whence the humpin' commences. And now the tawny striped Simba is approaching Jack, rubbing up against him too. In fact, the only one of the three cats who does not seem infatuated with Jack is Dusty, the female. She hates him with the smoldering heat of a Mississippi summer. She growls at him like a lion, and wedges herself under shelves and in hidey-holes, provoking Jack to yip his fool head off in frustration.
I try to look the other way when Jack gets in the mood. But I was trying to get a recent picture of him a couple days ago, and that darn cat came sashaying across the porch. At least they had the common decency to turn their heads so as not to be identified.
Yeah. No they didn't. They were right back at it almost before the picture snapped.
I think Stockings is wishing for a cigarette right about now, in his post-humpus state. Jack is looking for another willing partner, which would most likely be his Boneless Fur Skunk with a Squeaky Head, which hasn't been seen lately, but is most likely at the back of my sweet, sweet Juno's house, with the other kleptomaniacally-purloined Jack-toys she has stashed just inside her entrance.
Jack has also been in the doghouse with Hick lately, and received a sound spanking Thursday night for his unsupervised shenanigans.
I think it's about time to schedule Puppy Jack's very special operation.
He is a charmer!
ReplyDeleteMaybe you should change his name to Humpy Jack.
Heh, heh! Those cats might start promoting him like Captain Morgan..."Every kitty has a little Puppy Jack in him."
DeleteSorry. My 13-year-old-self made me do that.
Are you going to tell him you're taking him to get snip-snipped? Or are you going to make up a comforting lie?
ReplyDeleteIf Jack AND Hick are in the doghouse together, will they go together for the operation?
LAWS, NO! M-O-O-N! That spells, "I am NOT going to tell Puppy Jack where he's going." I will not bribe him with a treat, either, since he vomited on his last trip to the vet.
DeleteNo comment on the living conditions nor the snip-snippedness of Hick.
Why do they call it "getting him fixed" when it doesn't work after the operation?
ReplyDeleteMaybe because it's working TOO well BEFORE the operation?
DeleteOur goofy overgrown pup jumped any dog front end or back. He was a real Knuckle head.
ReplyDeleteI guess he didn't know if he was coming or going.
DeleteIs Puppy Jack transitioning into a cat?
ReplyDeletePuppy Jack has had no formal evaluation, and has not spoken of feeling like he was in the wrong body since he was just a big-headed 3 lb pup over in the rabbit hutch.
DeleteHe HAS been eating a lot of cat kibble, though he's not been observed licking his paws to clean his face, and seems to love jumping into containers of water entirely too much.
Perhaps he's just confused.