Would You Kiss My Dog

You might think twice before allowing a dog to give you a big wet kiss if you know what I know. I would also like to apologize in advance to all dog lovers. I remain an admirer of dogs, just from a distance where my face is out of reach of their over-exuberant tongues.

As a child growing up in the boonies of Alabama we had a number of dogs, some memorable and some I'd rather forget. One thing they all had in common is a move all dogs everywhere join in with gusto, one of which prevents me to this day, allowing a dog anywhere near my mouth.

Early in life, while still happily ignorant, I had no qualms in turning the current family's dog the freedom to indulge in a round of good-natured face lick. After all this is for most people one of the most endearing aspect of dog ownership, let mutt shower them with doggie kisses, so long as the dog owner can stand it. The pooch think it shows its owner the proper display of submissive behavior and affection and believe me when I tell you that a dog will drool over you, so long as you allow.

As I said before, it was my first year spent in blissful ignorance of Fido's hygienic tendencies. Thinking about that very aspect of doggie behavior today brings back the gag reflex I experienced when I finally discovered too late unfortunately, how mutt went his daily ablutions.

The dog we had at the time, if I remember, was a stray that kind drives in one day and decided to stay and see which way the wind blew. I saw him as a companion for my many explorations back in the hills of Appalachian. To give credit where credit is due I would say that the dog was a champion walker. He would accompany me for so long and so far I asked him too.

Now to the core of this story. I remember it was a blazing hot August day. One of these kind of days where the air was thick and hard to breathe. Anyway I was lounging on the porch and enjoy a cold drink, and not aware of anything in particular. A movement caught my attention and I saw our dog coming down the road towards the house, returning from who knows what type of foray. About a block from the property I saw him stop suddenly and peer intently at something at his feet. He eased himself down on the ground and began rolling around on her back, legs flailing the air, tongue lolling out, and appear to be in a state of puppy bliss. Needless to say this aroused my attention. I stood up and walked over to see what had been the dog all excited. Was there such a thing as dognip?

Arriving on stage my eyes were met with the disgusting sight of the dog rolling in the partially decomposed remains of some poor animal was unable to escape quickly enough. The way the dog was carrying on you would have thought that he had discovered the next largest fragrance guaranteed to sweep the lady dogs from their feet. He spent a good ten minutes, covering every square inch of his body with the essence of the carcass. He even belly-crawled over it a few times just to make sure no spot was missed.

When he completed this gruesome task, he stood up, shook himself off, gave me a sideways glance and headed for the porch. I stood in shock for a second, barely able to believe what I had just witnessed. Finally, gather my wits about me I decided it would be wise to put as much distance between me and the dog as possible. My plan was to casually walk by him (hold my breath of course), enter the main door and escape quietly out the back door and make the hills as fast as my legs would carry me the rest of the day. My reasoning was if I was several miles away I would not have to put up with the smell and best of all one of the other children had to give the dog a bath when the rest of the family caught wind of it.

Just for once I put my hand on the door handle to let me in I've noticed that the dog involved in yet one of the favorite pastimes of dogs everywhere. He had started licking over every inch of his body that he could reach. My stomach started doing flip-flops because I knew where he had been less than a minute before, but for some unknown reason, I was transfixed. I could not go away. Some morbid part of me wanted to see how far and how long this dog would go with this show.

For a good half hour I bore witness as this dog slurped himself from stem to stern, spending an inordinate amount of time in the stern area, if you get my meaning. With disgust and fascination I saw the whole gruesome process, seated at a time to see if it would help the nausea I felt coming on.

Once his ablutions were over he licked his chops as if he had just finished a choice sirloin, set his sights on me and before I could react, threw at me with a twinkle in his eye and a bounce in his step. After subsequent discussion I finally reasoned he would thank me for "sharing" the experience by offering me some of that love and devotion dogs are known for.

Instinct took over at this point and I started with a rapid retreat, crab-back with the dog come ever closer, intent on showering me with attention. I stumbled slightly and he saw it as his chance. He stuck in my face with his mouth open and tongue ready to give me the love and affection he felt I deserved as his master.

Things moved pretty much in an ambiguous on this point, which is understandable given the speed at which I moved. I vaguely remember trying to pull my head down between my shoulders like a turtle to prevent direct contact while at the same time floating me to the porch railing, just barely escaping the dog and his cesspool of a mouth.

Realized he had missed his chance he looked a little heartbroken and hurt that I should refuse him, whatever he thought was his righteous duty. Between a fit of hyper-gagging and impaired sight because of the smoke comes wafting on the porch I managed to warn him and fled into the house.

After a while I calmed myself down and started thinking about my former Escape Plan and the opportunity to bring them in action, while I still could when I was overwhelmed by a sudden feeling of anxiety. I suddenly remembered that the previous day I had left this same dog, the very one who had just spent almost an hour in the most revolting display I had ever experienced, kiss me square in the mouth.

I usually go into what happened next other than to say it took me about a week, three giant tubes of toothpaste and a couple of king-size bottles of Listerine before I got the taste out of my mouth.

Think about it folks. You might want to reconsider if PoochyPoo and his dog bad breath will share with you where your tongue has been just before he came over to give you a smack on the lips.