Animal Liberation Now
The shaggy guy at the organic booth this morning had an “Animal Liberation Now” shirt on. It didn’t surprise me. He’s the white guy with dreadlocks who holds forth about the wonders of kombucha and Bob Marley.
I always wanted Goldie to sit on my lap. I didn’t care that she was a 60-pound, long-legged greyhound mix. I thought it would be cool to snuggle her that way. But she wasn’t having it. She wouldn’t sit on me or sleep with me. She was a leaner, though, and spent thousands of hours pressing her spine to my legs as she sat next to me.
Abbie Lynn is a 60-pound, stocky-bodied something mix. And she is a lap dog. She is not only a lap dog, she is an insistent, won’t-take-no-for-an-answer lapdog. This morning, she tried to get up while I had a computer on my lap.
“NO NO NO,” I said, pushing on her chest.
She leapt over the arm of the chair anyway. Lap. Dog.
The view from my lap
It’s funny because mostly she completely ignores me, but when she wants the lap, the lap she will have.
I think I need Animal Liberation, too. Somebody, come liberate me. I’m being oppressed!