Kisses

I got a huge shock the other day. Our dog, Sissy, likes to lick Errol (who wouldn’t?), so it’s not unusual to put Errol down to get a paper towel to clean him up, come back a minute later, and find Sissy licking Errol’s face (she’s an environmentalist, it saves trees). The other day, I fed Errol, put him down on my bed, and ran of to the kitchen for a towel. No sooner had I gotten to the kitchen than I heard a high pitched squeal and raced back to protect Errol from Sissy, I looked in horror as I could see Sissy crouching over Errol, biting at the swollen tongue coming from his mouth. Poor Errol, I thought. As I lunged to pull my former dog off poor innocent Errol, I realized that he wasn’t so innocent. There was, in deed, a tongue in Errol’s mouth, but it wasn’t his. The tongue belonged to Sissy. She had gone a bit too far in search of food, Errol had clamped down on her tongue, and wasn’t about to let go. Sissy was writing in pain, and she reared back trying to extricate her poor tongue from Errol’s razor sharp teeth. But Errol loved Sissy’s shrieks, and grinned, but held his grip. He was not about to let this tongue go. I don’t know if Sissy will ever talk again. You would think Sissy would have learned her lesson, but tonight, she was at it again, licking Errol clean. As for Errol, he’s smiling, just waiting for his next big chance.