Monday, June 11, 2007
Bandit Talks: On Jealousy
Bandit here...and I'm a bit jealous.
Jealousy, as my Dad's shrink tells him, is really just a form of love. He also tells him, and Dad has shared this with me in his private cry sessions to me, that if you have that stomach-wrenching jealousy feeling that most of the time there's an element of truth on the part of other individual. In other words if you feel it, you're probably being cheated on!
Well, get a load of this: You know how much I love walks. You know how much I look forward to my little red leash being taken off the key ring holder and snapped onto my collar. Also, even though I didn't originally like it, I even now have come to enjoy my seat belt harness for I know in the long run it means an even better and different walk. Well, yesterday I got the sneaking suspicion Dad was cheating on me.
In the afternoon, after leaving me for most of the morning to go to the office (on a Sunday...he's so boring), Dad came back and put on his favorite walking sandals -- the ones he spent $100 after being molested...I mean...coerced by the guy at the shoe store into buying them -- a friend of his came by and off they went into the spanking clean Volvo. I had a feeling. I had a suspicion. In fact, I followed them out the door thinking they'd include me. Perhaps I heard the "w" word (walk). I can't remember. Off in the shiny Volvo they went without me. I watched from the living room window as they headed toward the water.
Anyway, two hours later they come back smelling like the fresh Atlantic ocean. It was either Nahant or Swampscott I couldn't quite tell. I so very rarely get to go that my nose hasn't been able to decipher between the two. There was sand on their feet and that freshly walked look upon their faces. I wanted to throw up. It was like finding lipstick on your lover's collar or the hint of another cologne or, in the case of you tops, a skid mark in your lover's undies when you know it wasn't from your own tapping. (I learn all sorts of things living with a gay guy.) Thank God I didn't detect the scent of another dog otherwise I would have lost it. It would have been over! Nonetheless, I was crushed. A one to two hour walk by the beach without me.
Hold on...I gotta grab a tissue. The pain...
Later, I think Dad felt a pang of guilt. He took my around the old, boring block for about ten minutes: the tree on the corner of Chestnut and Maple still smells like the bitch cocker spaniel is in heat, the rock in front of the Malloy's hasn't been spotted in at least a week and the fire hydrant, my favorite with the petrified pile of poop that's been there since last fall, has a fresh new scent to it -- a female of unknown origin. Well, at least there's something to look forward to in this boring neighborhood. But it would have been nice to be included in on the fun of yesterday. Am I that much of a pain in the ass? I bet the little obsessive-compulsive queer didn't want my paws get his leather interior dirty.
Well, even after all that, I did sleep with him last night. After all, I do take after my Dad.
But he's got to realize, if he does indeed love me, love is not just a feeling; it's a verb. It's one thing to say you love someone but real love is about taking action and making sacrifices.
Over and out...
P.S. By the way, Rick would say hi but he's got a meeting to prepare for.
Posted by Rick Bettencourt at 6:26 AM