Life's a Rex! (NOT...)

She turned and ran away from him, gradually picking up speed in her graceful, easy lope, her pony-tail bobbing, her mind already on what she'd be doing next, the taste of good coffee and bitter regret lingering in his mouth.

He watched her familiar shape getting smaller as she put more distance between them, literally and figuratively, her body as untouched by childbearing or age as he'd always known it would be.  She was a lean, lanky Golden Retriever built for distance, not sprints; for action, not sedentary introspection.

Rex let out a mournful howl that echoed painfully inside his human's head.  A short, vigorous shake couldn't cut off the internal dissonance.  "Let it go, Rex!" blurted his human, "We're all better off this way."

Rex called bullshit, but there was nothing he could do about the situation.  He knew (as his human didn't want to acknowledge), that she wasn't running away, she was running back.  Back to the litter of pups that were supposed to have been sired and nurtured by Rex et al, back to a life that was meant to have been theirs (with a wistful nod to Mr. Keith...).


Rex hadn't been lead dog in this relationship, however, his human had, and humans find ways to complicate life, no matter how ideal the fit they've found. If Rex and his human were complex, she was impressively, intricately, fascinatingly complex: smarter, quicker, much more intricate than any Swiss watch.  Just as beautiful, just as precise in her movements, even more efficient in her mechanisms, but far less easy to predict.  She was also less easy to make adjustments to -- impossible, in fact -- but then adjustments like those always began from within.

Truth be told, it was Rex who suffered most.  Dogs like Rex bonded to their opposite-gender alphas with deep, life-long connections that never really severed, despite time or distance...

Read the rest of this story and the entire collection of Rex's short stories by downloading a copy of "Is Rex a Dog?" for FREE at Smashbooks by clicking here!