It was just a matter of time, I figured, so I was not surprised to see him in the kitchen when I went for my 3 a.m. sip of water. He was sitting in the corner, big as life, and—strangely—had a cigarette dangling from his mouth. He looked only slightly the worse for wear which meant he was still a magnificent specimen.
"So, how you been?" I asked.
"Dead. You?"
"Alive. Anything I can help you with?"
"Nah. Just sniffing around the old stomping grounds. Surprised to see not much has changed except the smells are different...a little more, er, acid, shall we say. Aren't you a little old to be doing that kind of thing?"
"It's become a bit of a trademark. You must have had one when you were here?"
"Mine was pretty much just getting in their faces. You'd be amazed how easy that is for someone as tall as I am."
The tall comment smarted. I had always felt just a little inferior to even the memory of Cosmo, but now, here, with his ghost standing in front of me, I felt all the littler.
He spoke tiredly: "Let me tell you something about life: Poof! It's gone! I was eating dust bunnies one day, the next I couldn't get up the stairs and the third it was the shot and the big sleep. So celebrate, little guy."
Again with the "little" and I wondered if I should put the big goomer in his place. "I celebrate! My whole life is just one big fucking party! Everyone loves me—"
He snerfed; a big masculine sound that sounded so much richer than what I was capable of—in fact, his snerf made mine sound a little like Benjie's. Then he talked in this wonderful, rumbly, ghostly-with-a-little-bit-of-cigarette voice. "Listen, Toto—"
"—it's Leo!—"
"—whatever, You're like the second wife: you might get some nice used jewels and dresses but the love of the family is interrèd with her bones."
"Well," I responded, "kudos on the Shakespeare paraphrase—"
"—thank you—"
"—But here's one for you too: 'I like long life better than dog's arse.' You lived 11 years, right?" He nodded. "Chances are good I'll go to 16 or 17. Moreover, I may bury one of these two myself—"
"—probably the fat one—"
"—probably the fat one. So the likelihood is that in that long life of mine I will find a hundred ways to out-cute you and—guess what!?—replace you. Already they have only one picture on the wall of you and you look like a goof. Skeeter has taken hundreds of me and hours of video and I have replaced you in the hearts of all the neighbours...except the retarded on—"
"—who called me Cosmos—"
"—yes, that one."
There was a silence and he finally sighed and it was the sound of the dead and tired. I felt sorry for having lit into him. He puffed a little on his cigarette and then said, "So everyone in the neighbourhood loves you?"
"Yup!"
"Wow."
"Un-hunh," I said but was less cocky 'cause there was something in that "Wow" I didn't like.
He snerfed, and repeated, "They all love you. Jeez. How sad." He let that hang in the air for a bit and then went on. "So you're like—what?—the class clown? No dignity at all? Jumping about and making everyone laugh? I didn't know dogs like that existed anymore—"
"—dogs like what?—"
"—Oh, you know: village circus dogs. I suppose they give you a treat every time you do a little dance? Do you wear a little tutu?"
"IT'S NOTHING LIKE THAT!" I roared.
"Hm," he said. "I feel sorry for you. Don't you feel a little sorry for yourself, Toto?"
My head exploded at this and I hissed in his face, "IT'S FUCKING LEO, GET IT! AND IT'S NOT LIKE THAT! I AM THE FUCKING KING OF THE NEIGHBOURHOOD! I OWN THE TOWN! GOT IT! GOT IT!"
He looked me straight in the face and then licked me on the nose. "That's all right, little one. Calm down. I'm yanking your chain." I sat down and we stared at each other a moment. The cigarette was still there, but it wasn't getting shorter despite all the smoke. It much be some kind of celestial thing.
"Let me tell you the truth," he said. "They love you to pieces. But they couldn't love you so much if they hadn't loved me first and they still love me and miss me."
"I know," I muttered. "They call me Cosmo sometimes."
"Well, they called me Buddy sometimes too. He was the one before. We don't go away, in their lives. We're like a smell. It clings. From what I've seen you're doing an okay job here. Though I gotta say, my singing was better."
I snerfed a laugh and the two of us decided to lie down. We were both looking out the window, at the stars. "They still never wash these," he said. "Not that I've seen," I said. "Just as well," he muttered, "feels like home."
We both fell asleep. I woke up later and he was gone and I toddled back to Boo-Boo's bed. Just before I fell asleep, far, far off, I heard a big dog howl.
Cosmo was singing in the trees. Life never ends.
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