Yip was a young pup when he joined the family, and has since brought a lot of joy forth – indeed, Yip is short for Yippee, a name that means expressing wild excitement or delight. There is no head nor tail to his past, as we found him as a squator on a bed of pine needles, curled up on the other side of our tattered, sun worn wooden fence. We took the pup in, and he more than quickly became playmates with our other pup. On this very day, you would have seen them wrestling, enjoying a good back-and-forth chase, and cuddling. He sure came off as endearing, a lost, lonely, and languishing pup starved for a family, but sometimes I wonder if Yips is a flee-ridden dirt bag with a hedonistic motive – the playmate. I don’t mean it and I wouldn’t harass him for it. Not day escapes their affection. They’re entangled.
A certain courtesy Yips provides our other pup is the butt wipe. Dog’s enjoy licking. Dog’s enjoy licking! Gosh, if it hasn’t clicked, I’ll explain it. He licks her bottom and then licks us. Most of the times you can get away, but most times you are left with an intense displeasure at the image of ass-licking and how saliva seems to amplify the other dog’s ass smell. The ass-licking, ball-sucking flee bag is getting on my nerves, coming after me with his weaponized tongue, blazing red and glimmering in the light.
What I have been learning is how to love the pup through the fear and disgust. It’s only a kiss. It’s just a different way of kissing. Gah, I hope that isn’t internalized in my psyche, showing it’s ugly face in my romances. His name is Yippee, a joyful pup, now sometimes nicknamed Lickee. His wagging tail, disarming eyes, and splotchy fur, fur I enjoy grabbing, draw me in, and his enthusiasm emanating “But I’m so happy” when I turn him away nurture guilt. Oh, I’m learning to be cordial, learning to love through the disdain. Can’t hate a pup for being a pup.