Animal Love

I want to shield you from harm.
I want to bring you gifts the way my dog brings me a dead rat,
and looks to me for approval and praise.
When you walk in the door,
my tail wags with unfettered adoration waiting for you to make eye contact,
get down on all fours,
and nuzzle your face against mine.

You say this is an obsession.
I say it is the most basic kind of love,
one that even an unintelligent animal can understand.

My dog licks my feet at night.
He snuggles down between my ankles,
licks the soles until he drifts off to sleep,
or until I have had enough.
It reminds me of a baby sucking at a pacifier for soothing comfort.
I would lick your feet if you would let me.

My dogs follow me around the house,
watching my every move.
They probably know me better than I know myself -
when I am likely to sit down,
when I am ready for bed,
when I am likely to put food in their bowls.
I know you that way, too.
I watch your every move.
I would follow you around the house if you would let me.

You say this is an obsession.
I say it is the most basic kind of love,
one that even an unintelligent animal can understand.