Sunday mornings are fabulous (so is the word 'fabulous', by the way). I always try to carve out a few hours to do whatever I want, with coffee in hand. You know, just have a little time to unwind and relax. I love 'em.
Well, apparently my dog does too. She has a little different idea of what a relaxing Sunday morning looks like though. She likes to spend hers smelling the cat's butt. That is actually the everyday morning ritual around here, but I only really have time to be disgusted by it on Sundays. I will stick with the coffee under my nose, thank you.
I don't get the attraction, but the two animal train with the canine cat-butt smelling caboose has just made it's third trip through my living room this morning.
The whole thing is gross I know, but I will tell you that I have some respect for it on a dedication level. It may not be the healthy, well adjusted love Peck talks about in The Road Less Traveled but it is committed. I mean this has been going on for over 8 years! There are a lot of marriages that haven't lasted nearly that long, even if they did include butt smelling!
Here's the thing though: The cat shows no sign of appreciation or acknowledgement for what looks like quite a task. Instead, it seems to me that she has developed a pretty snooty sense of entitlement about the whole ritual. That doesn't seem right.
I don't know -- I just have a little bit of what I am sure is poorly placed admiration for sticking to something for that long -- even if it is an unappreciative cat's butt (you know you saw that coming).
I just blogged about my dog's fetish and my cat's butt. That's probably not ideal.
happy Sunday!
d.
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