A little down the street from us live these two women. One of them is like a thousand years old and she's a bit like one of those crones in a fairy story except her hair is really, really blond. She lives with her daughter who is getting up there, in terms of crone-ism, and her hair is bright, bright red. They have a cat.
Now this cat and I have a strange relationship. Once, while walking with Mook A, the cat seemed to show some interest in me while not showing the hostility that virtually every other cat in the neighbourhood gives me. I started to approach the cat, also without hostility. The redhead told the Mook, "She really, really hates dogs" but that didn't prevent the crone, who had the cat on a leash, from approaching me and the Mook with the animal. It was strange. It was creepy-mysterioso. The cat and I touched noses. The redhead said she'd never seen anything like it.
Three days ago I was in the alley (again with A) and we came up to the apartment building where the biddies and their feline live. The cat was in the backyard behind a fence and when it saw me it came forward to the fence. This is where things get weird. I approached the fence slowly as did the cat. A gave me all the leash that I wanted so I wasn't strangling. The cat and I only had the fence between us now. We could almost touch. I could smell that hideous smell cats have but all that did was to intoxicate me a little. The cat hissed at but it was a gentle—almost lulling—sound and it moved back. I moved back. We both moved forward but so, so slowly. Almost touching again, now, she hissed a little and I noticed that she was a she
and that she stank of something else besides cat...she smelled of wet pussy (if you know what I mean, and I think you do). She moved back, just out of reach, and hissed a little and I felt I had to do something to get her to come forward again so I started to snerf and whimper and hop about. That's when Mook A said, "That's enough" and dragged me off.
"I have no fucking idea what that was all about," he said to me as we left. "I think you're getting really, really crazy and all that back and forth and shit was just a little bit queer, Little One." Note: every time Mook B wants to crawl up my asshole and hit my every nerve he will accuse me of the one thing that hits: queerness. I don't know why...must be a queer thing. But when he calls me queer and uses that epithet, Little One, I want to kill him, myself...the world. But it did make me think. What the fuck was going on between me and that fucking cat? Was it something—ick!—sexual or was that cat trying to dominate me and, from all appearances, succeeding? And what is a dog dominated by a cat but a prison bitch. Might as well just bend over and stay that way.
It gets worse.
Mook A, again, was walking me that night and when we were done he asked Mook B, "Have you ever noticed our dog walks a little faggy?" B laughed but A went on, "You know, he's always rushing ahead and when he rushes without running his back hips sway from side to side and you start to notice how little...and dainty...his paws are and how the nails clicking on the sidewalk sound like high heels."
Fucker! I could have explained that smaller dogs have to walk fast to keep up with their mooks and that we can't help how we look doing it and that all of this is the reason we tend to try to beat up on big dogs because big dogs call us "Sissy" all the time. It's how we are and it's the 'tude and...it's how we are!!!!!
But then it gets so worse.
Two night ago I was rough-housing on the couch with B. It was wild and wooly and before I knew it I was trying to hump his arm and had a massive hard on. All play stopped. A said, "Well...there you go. He's gay after all!" B laughed—laughed!—and said, "You think we've turned him?" There was much mirth between the two of them but I wasn't laughing. Not laughing at all.
Yesterday, as a kind of joke between them and the world, the Mooks bought me a new collar. It had studs on it and was made of black leather and the brand name was Harley Davidson. They both thought this was riotous but I'll tell you now: I am going to earn those studs.
Watch me.
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