Lisa Kelley: Dogs and Furless Beings find love in mysterious ways

But even better is knowing her love

Lisa Kelley is away this week. Writing in her stead is her dog, Baxter:

I am grateful for the opportunity to address you once again in Owner Dear's absence. I am not as grateful as I would be in the event these opportunities posed themselves with greater frequency, but grateful nonetheless.

During my prior literary allowances, I have shared with you my love of cured meats, my fetching appearance, my status as loyal companion and law partner of Owner Dear, and my poetic abilities -- which some claim rival those of Yeats and Whitman. Today, I share with you some observations about Furless Beings, especially the particular human given me.

During my 12 years -- roughly the equivalent of 84 years, if I were a man -- I have discerned that Furless Beings spend much time regaling one other with quantifiable data of their age, weight and stature, from which they claim to know something meaningful about one another. Birth announcements, resumes, sporting statistics, census records and obituaries often focus on such minutiae. The fact that Owner Dear is a brunette of middle age and moderate build in a professional vocation fails to distinguish her from much of humanity. These features can -- and do -- change on Owner Dear, all of no import to me.

I know my human by the way she smells. She smells, well, like me, at least in part, and I make certain of this as she rises each morning by showering her with kisses and depositing strands of fur upon her faded night shirt. My scent blends with her scent into an aroma that is just ours. No one smells like we do.

I know the way Owner Dear says my name. Those who love you say your name unlike anyone else. Her eyes twinkle and her cadence is soft -- unless I have rolled in something dead, at which point her voice elevates significantly. Even still, she is calling to me and me alone, and my heart is warmed.

I know Owner Dear will playfully scratch the end of my ear when I have caught her doing something foolish, like forgetting her keys for the 43rd time or grabbing the flour instead of the sugar when she is attempting to prepare dinner. Since I am continually watching her, and she is continually doing foolish things, my ears are scratched regularly. While I enjoy the scratch, I like that I know her so well that I know the scratch is coming even more than I like the scratch itself.

A scent, a voice, a manner of doing things -- these traits separate Owner Dear from other Furless Beings, for those are the things that make her her, and that knowledge makes her mine.

I see Owner Dear has applied Oil of Olay to her toothbrush, and I must position myself for an ear scratch. I have enjoyed our time together. Until we meet again, please be good to one another, and do remember the importance of product labels.

NAN Our Town on 09/12/2019

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