Saturday, September 22, 2012

Rex Meets Regina

Rex was restless.  He hadn’t been allowed out in a very long time.  His brain was simmering from the overload of sensory input, especially given the circumstances.  Bodies pressed in on him from all sides, a panting, slavering pack of male hounds, all shouldering and chuffing at each other in an instinctive display of dominance and bravado.  Rex wasn’t much bothered by them — he wasn’t so much ‘above all that’ as simply unperturbed by their nervous, ego-driven compulsions.  

His snout raised above their heads and he sniffed, seeking out Little Red in the crowd of dogs, looking out for the sole member of his own pack who’d come with him, a petite red-haired terrier.  He wanted to give her room to meet the other males, but remain at-the-ready to intervene should he sense she needed him to 'run defense.'  Across the bar could see her being sandwiched between a German Shepherd and a Corgi, both pressing their muzzles close to hers to win ALL of her attention -- but she seemed to be holding her own, her eyes sparkling coquettishly at the attention.

Rex’s human had gradually, over time, become the Master of Low Expectations, so Rex was on a long lead.  Having been out to a lot of these events, his human assumed nothing much would come of this long-avoided foray into the real world of adult singles in a basement bar downtown.  (Nothing had ever come of previous forays for a couple of years, though, to be honest with himself, he didn’t ‘work it very hard.')

His human was checking his phone, so Rex's portion of their brain relaxed, scanning the room for females, eyeing a few: a Chow with interesting curves, a Spaniel with a nervous, “don’t invade my personal space” glare, a Golden Retriever who looked like she had some Fox Terrier bred into her bloodline some time back.  None caught his fancy.

Another alpha male pushed his way past Rex to the bar, a silver-haired Weimaraner.  Rex made room so he could order a drink.  Rex’s human said, “More men than women tonight.  That’s never good.

You can smell the testosterone in the air.  We’ll have to ‘man-up’!  My name’s Stan.”  He held out his paw and Rex’s human shook it, shared his name and they chatted for a few moments before Stan said, “I’m going to cruise around.  Maybe Ms. Right is here!” 
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