Rexless in Seattle

Rex whined a little.  He scratched at the bottom of his doghouse door, his nose pressed against the crack.  It was still locked from the outside.  He lay down dejectedly, his snout between his paws.  A long sigh filled the inside of his little chamber.

There was a female on the other side of the door, so close he could smell her, but his human had locked Rex up so long ago that it seemed he'd forgotten about him!  Rex, sadly under-leveraged, was left to loll about in exasperation as his human attempted to master the art of social interaction without him -- "Rexless," if you will.

She was 23 ("almost 24", she had added, helpfully).  They were at a party at someone's house, an event Rex's human rarely got invited to since moving back to the hometown he had thought would welcome him with open arms.  Having lived abroad for so long, any network connections and friendships he'd once had had long ago evaporated, or morphed into 'married with children', allowing no latitude for welcoming a mature single guy into their impenetrable little cliques.

He'd ridden up the elevator with her and her friend, making small talk about the host and hostess, then once inside they'd parted as he made the rounds greeting friends of long-estranged friends.  With her comment she was merely confirming what he already had discerned riding up the elevator: far too young to have any interest in him.



He....

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