FUR AND FEATHERS’ WRITING CONTEST
Horror Dog Stands Between Me and First Date Orgasm
Crazy canine’s encounter brought us closer
30th Sister’s Anniversary
My parents invited many of my sister’s friends to a cottage house for a surprise party. Nice place on the lake. My dog Heidi, a superb female Rottweiler, liked it.
For the occasion, I invited a new girlfriend I had a few dates with. Shiny new. A few days ago, we French kissed for the first time like there was no tomorrow. It was within a club’s entrance and no full consumption was possible. Someone might have said, “Get a room!” joking. No room possible, no joke. We enjoyed it anyway.
Lots of People, No Private Space at the Cottage
No time to fool around. It was my sister’s show, and we showed up to celebrate her aging and we took part in the fun. Eventually, we went to walk my dog for a bit of intimacy and pee—for my dog, that is.
Heidi, The Rot Doggie
My Rottweiler was the softest and kindest of her brand. Knowing the potential aggressiveness for this type of dog—but nothing to do with pit bulls!—I overdid the socialization part when she was a pup. OVER DID…
She was so excited when seeing people, she was dangerous like a loose cannon. Running wild in all directions to express her joy the best she could and “greet” any random stranger or close friends as if they were the best people in the world to show how happy she was.
They deserved the best my dog could offer: a never-ending vigorous shaking butt separated with rallies in whatever space was available to maneuver for a 120-pound locomotive on ice.
My dog: a new human to love and get loved!! Quiiiick! Mayday, Mayday! Move out, I need to express my ultra-happiness!
She often bumped into kids who bounced off the floor or she rammed others like a bowling strike. She scored!
A1, Heidi.
So nice, so innocent. She would bring a rubber ball to a robber. She was a killer player.
The Short Walk at the Cottage
We were walking at night. Calm, stars, romantic, yada, yada. We didn’t walk for long because of this uncalled-for encounter. Ugh.
My dog: Hey! Hey you! Yeah! You! There, I see you! Yo! I seeeee Youuuuuuu!
The thing: WTF is that oddball?
My dog: You are a weird cat! Do You live here? Wanna play? Huh? Hey, you stink! Wanna? Play? Huh?
The thing: WTF! Move away NOW or.
My dog: Wann…
The skunk: Psssssssshhhhhhhhh.
My dog: WTF happ’n? What a smelly, bad-mannered cat. My eyes! My nose! It hurts! Biiichhoooooo!
Me: Uh oh, bad news. What a severe nincompoop that dog.
My new girlfriend knew it was not good news, but laughed and took my hand. “Wanna have a tomato bath with your favorite goooood girl Heidi? I’m so jealous!”
My pants were itching hard, but I knew it wouldn’t get any attention soon. Darn f’n dog! Heidi was scraping her head against any piece of grass available while weeping. The odor was … Odorant.
Tomato Bath on The Lake’s Deck
We did what we knew best. Getting as much tomato juice, tomato pasta, and canned tomatoes, all on the dog. It was dark. It was not super fun. Heidi, my newfound skunk dog had no clue about what was going on and was happy to play whatever game we wanted to play with her. Even if it involved tomatoes.
My dog’s thoughts: Tomatoes? Juice? Wow, these humans are wild. Will they cook me like a pizza? I loooove pizza!
Her Behavior, My Lady
This wasn’t the right sequence of events. It was getting late, a few party guests remained, and I had to shampoo my dog with tomato stuff, rinse her with the lake water, and do it again. My new girlfriend was totally in it with me and happy to do whatever needed to be done, within a safe-smelling distance. She had fun!
At some point, I had enough of the pizza dog in the making. It was pitch dark. I rinsed her a few times, but the odor skanked. I was done. I covered my dog one last time with what remained.
I could not see a thing and ordered my dog to stay in the backyard. You stay! That thing was NOT getting in the house. She needed to marinate a bit more.
My dog’s ruminations: Why is Bicho acting weird around that long-haired human? Funny fruit name. Chéri. Where are the usual smelly ones? Mike? Benny? Bob? Why do fruity-named humans get all the attention? WHAT? She gets into the house? Huh?
Oh! What’s this? Grass with tomato juice? Miam!
Back to Business
Did I say it was late? I jumped in the shower and washed myself to make sure I wouldn’t smell like that seducing cartoon skunk. Just the seducing at work. Which was the second order on the agenda. Then fornicate like deprived beasts. Finally!
She was wild, I must have been wild too but…
Scratch, scratch, scratch…
Fucking hell! It’s so late, and so, so bad timing! Who’s making that noise at the front door? Who dares to interrupt the erupt? WHO?
I put on my wardrobe. Ready for war. I get to the front door, open the light, and open the door.
In the entrance’s spotlight, I see a horror dog splattered with blood. She is happy like there’s no tomorrow and wondering about pizza.
F’n hell!
I realize it’s my lovely dog, covered with many tomato products and she wanted to have fun too. She disobeyed and ran from the backyard to the front door and scratched it to get attention in the middle of the night.
My dog’s thoughts: Heya! What’s cooking? The Piiizaaaaa, remember? I’m ready as ever! Focus Bicho! Hey!? What’s that fruity smell? You look all weird. Did Cherry cast a spell on you? Can she make a big bone appear? Oh. She already did? Bummer! Bicho! You smell like a smut in a rut. About Cherry, where is she? Did I think something funny? Wanna play? Huh?
I’m laughing my ass out. My girlfriend joined in the laughter. What a disaster! Rinse and repeat. I washed her more (my dog) got her in the bath tub (my dog) and rubbed her with soap and more soap until I felt she could sleep in the basement with no one fainting at the horrible odor.
My new girlfriend was, again part of the fun during that unfortunate not so fun never ending task. She helped as she could. It was very late. She teased my dog using a baby-talk voice, calling my dog a nice cute idiotic doggy, with a big smile on her face.
Heidi was so happy to be a Heidi dog.
I was so happy to be a Bicho human and have her around—the new girlfriend!
We eventually resumed where we left off.
We also resumed living together 20 years, two teenagers in the making. Later, not that night!
My dog eventually passed away.
My wife, that day, passed the test.
Dog Bless You
Here is a story from Peter Sassi I enjoyed from the contest. They certainly feel and know.
