A Heart Torn Asunder

I had just finished watching a PBS special, Raging Torrents of Black and White: When Good Pandas Go Bad, and noticed Rex was sitting in the kitchen looking at his empty food bowl.
“Oh, rats, Rex, we used the last of your food this morning. Let’s hop on down to Ocean View Veterinarian Clinic and get you some more. Maybe Dr. Kocher will give you a treat! Grab your coat and hat and let’s go!” Of course the words meant nothing to him, but when I whispered “car-car,” he ran in circles at the jingle of the truck keys.

As we entered the vet’s, Rex almost snapped his neck off looking at another dog . . . a cute small Doxie.
I smiled at the dog’s owner. “Boy or girl?”
“Oh, it’s a her. Sophie.”
Rex’s tail was whipping back and forth like a Geiger counter at Chernobyl at the sight of “Sophie.”
My comrade was beside himself, and Sophie wasn’t the least bit interested. Typical.
The owner continued, “Sophie is a miniature. And who is this young handsome man?”
“This is Rex,” I gushed. “‘Protector of the Pharaohs,’ ‘Guardian of the Secrets of Eternity,’ ‘Small Caliber Assault Weapon.’”
“Well, that’s quite a set of credentials. Rex, this is Sophie. Sophie, meet Rex.”
I picked up Rex and held him to Sophie, who was being held by her owner. Rex’s tail almost came off. Sophie took a few perfunctory sniffs of her suitor and looked away. Typical.
Rex looked to me for guidance. I smiled at him, and then I smiled at Sophie’s “mom.”
Rex made a whimper in his ballooning ecstasy; Sophie yawned. Typical.
It was my turn at the counter. I bought the dog food and nodded goodbye to the woman and scratched Sophie’s head. “Bye, Sophie. Nice to meet you,” and with that Rex and I left.
In the truck, Rex lay flat on the seat. I knew what he was thinking. He was thinking about Millie, his girlfriend. He must be agonizing about his predicament: just a few scant days until Valentine’s Day and he had the scorchies for someone new. I always buy a gift for Millie from Rex, and now his heart had been torn in another direction. He probably felt he had been unfaithful to Millie in his galloping infatuation with Sophie. He lay on the seat, not moving.
He must be an emotional wreck, poor little guy. Soon he’ll be in our back yard, watching Millie through the fence, just inches from him. Will she know? Will she smell Sophie’s shampoo and mask her heartache? Will she sense a change in his behavior and know his heart is beating for another woman? When Rex and Millie are sucking the marrow out of a cow femur together, will Millie bury her pain, put a smile on her face, and hope Rex doesn’t see “the other woman” again? Or, will she confront him with his infidelities?
“Rex. Wanna get a pack of hot dogs and throw them on the grill?” He was having trouble with the ancillary words, but “hot dogs” stuck. He jumped up on me and started “woofing” and licking me in his excitement.
“Okay, okay, okay. Hold your horses. Jees, your breath is atrocious. Did you get into the Hoffenmueller’s trash again? No wonder Sophie gave you the cold shoulder. I’ll brush your teeth before you go over to see Mille.”
We had the hot dogs (four each). I brushed his teeth and he shimmied under the fence to see Millie. His steamy, tawdry interlude with Sophie? That’d be for Rex and Millie to work out.
I sat on the back porch, watching them, wondering what to get Millie for Valentine’s Day.
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Tom Burns can be reached at burns100@earthlink.net. Rex is accepting fan mail.