V. But wait, there's more!
As told by Nina
"There's more to it than just hugging a fluffy toy. The idea is that you play pretend, so you make yourself believe that you really are a puppy. And with 'puppy', that generally means a three-year-old, for me and Milo."
"To be honest, I can't deny that it's odd, but I'm also curious. What do you do when you're playing pretend?"
I tightly hugged Natasha for a few seconds, then resumed stroking her head and back again.
"We color with pencils, or we watch a television show for kids. Usually, though, one of us plays the puppy, while the other person acts as a caregiver."
She frowned and slightly tilted her head.
"It's, um... the task of a caregiver is to make sure that the puppy has a good time. Part of that task is taking responsibility for some of the puppy's needs. For instance, when I'm little, Milo feeds me," I explained. It took me a second or so to gather enough courage to continue. "As in bottle-feeding. It may seem simple, but it's a way of showing that there's nothing I should worry about. Not even a basic need like eating. When I'm playing puppy with Milo, I can just hand all of that over to him. No worries and no responsibilities."
"It sounds like you're being quite serious about this," Trisha commented. "And you both like this?"
"Very much so. Besides that it's a really good stress-killer, we experience things like bottle-feeding as a form of bonding. You serve the other person, helping them to enjoy themselves, and you'll get a lot of pure and innocent love in return."
"As a mother, I think I understand what you mean. However, something tells me that there's more. Since the beginning of the conversation, there's something you've been wanting to tell me, but it's like you're stalling because you don't dare to. I'm not going to hurt you, Nina. You're a very special girl to my grandson, and whatever the two of you are doing can't be that bad, can it?"
"Like I said before, the stuffed animal isn't the weirdest thing. I mentioned bottle-feeding, which means we both own a bottle. We also have our own childish pajamas, and we usually sleep with a pacifier."
Unfortunately, her response was nothing more than an understanding nod. 'This is it', I thought. 'No turning back now.' I took another deep breath, and tried to calm down my twitching tail. With shaking hands, I put my mug down, almost spilling the contents. Trisha did not appear to pay attention to that, silently drinking her own tea.
"We... I mean, the person that plays the puppy... also gets to wear a diaper."
She remained silent for a few seconds, then finally spoke up, still maintaining her calm and relaxed expression. "Why would Milo voluntarily wear a diaper? I always thought he disliked them because of his bedwetting issue. He did tell you about that, right?"
I nodded. "The... diapers," I said, having difficulties uttering the d-word, "serve the same function as a stuffed animal or a pacifier. They give a feeling of comfort and security."
"But you don't need diapers, do you?"
I looked down and stared at Natasha, drooping my ears. "No," I whispered.
"Then why would you wear them? Isn't your stuffed animal sufficient?"
In contrast to what I half-expected, her questions did not sound aggressive or insulting, but rather had an intonation of genuine curiosity.
"Wearing diapers is something that more or less defines being a puppy. And um, I think they're kinda comfortable."
Trisha's ears relaxed, showing a sign of relief.
"So, um, yush... We pretend to be puppies every now and then. Milo was really nervous during our first playtime, but it didn't take long before he could properly enjoy it. We then switched roles when I had a particularly bad day, and he took care of me. He's such a gentleman, but such a loving boyfriend at the same time. He even asks for my permission every time we sleep together."
She gave me a stern look, which reminded me of the fact that Milo's grandparents taught him that certain forms of intimacy should be reserved only for the person he'd bonded with. My ears folded flat against the back of my head. Usually, it did not embarrass me, but sexuality was a subject I found rather awkward to discuss with a senior dog.
"Oh, don't get me wrong. We haven't done that. I meant that we sleep in the same bed when I'm at his place, since it's big enough for both of us. Milo won't go any further than cuddling or giving me a lick on my muzzle. He told me that you and your husband used to exhort him to have great respect for a girl and not to intimately touch her body without permission."
Trisha smiled. "I see that he decided to follow my advice. Call it conservative, or old-fashioned, or whatever you like, but it's a part of our family tradition. We have some values and morals of our own, I suppose."
"Yush, we've talked about that once. I'm really okay with it. I prefer having a careful boyfriend over one that forces himself on me. I used to think that he's insecure when we're having playtime, but it's just that Milo doesn't want me to do anything I'm not comfortable with. Besides, my father always told me that love isn't about the person you want to sleep with, but rather the one you'd want to wake up next to."
The old Indian's ears perked up. "Interesting saying. How does that work between you and Milo?"
"Well, like I said, we haven't exactly, y'know... but I love waking up next to him. It doesn't matter which of us is big or little. When he is the first thing I see in the morning, I know he loves me."
Trisha slowly drank some of her tea.
"Um, this might sound a little strange to you, but do you notice anything different about my collar?" I asked.
She put her mug down, then adjusted her glasses and pensively studied my neckwear for a few seconds.
"You took the tag off, but that's only sensible," she said plainly. "After all, your name is not 'Emily', is it?"
We both laughed, and I was glad she relieved some of the tension.
"What is that key, though?" She asked, pointing at the small silver key dangling from the d-ring. "What does it do?"
"It's my, er... let's put it this way. My mother's family has the tradition to give each female one of these keys after they, um... had their first period."
Trisha cocked her head.
"From then on, a girl is fertile. According to the tradition, I'm supposed to give the key to the first person I mate with. I'm not obliged to wear the key, but I like the metaphor. It symbolizes the... well, let's call it the key to the 'full access' to my body. As long as that key is still on my collar, I haven't given myself away to Milo yet. O-or anyone else, for that matter."
She took some time to think, leaving a silence that was not uncomfortable, but it did make me nervous.
"I think I can understand some of what you told me about this... 'hobby' of yours," she finally said. "Although I find it quite unusual, I don't see how this could hurt you. From what you and Milo have told me, it appears that my grandson is happier since he met you. I don't care much how you dogs do that, as long as you're not hurting each other in the long run."
"So you're not weirded out by all this?"
"It's not something I've ever seen before, but if it makes Milo happy, who am I to have a problem with it? Besides, you're both young adults and you should decide for yourself what you do. I'm not going to stop you," she reassured. "That is, as long as you don't neglect building a grown-up relationship. After all, you're not really three years old. Besides, judging by how Milo speaks about you, he's deeply in love with you. Take your time to be the twenty-year-olds you actually are as well."
"Oh, we do that as well. It's not like we have playtime every day. We mostly play once a week, and we don't even play every week. We do other stuff as well, like going to the movies, or to the theatre."
She smiled. "I see. It's good to hear that the two of you are enjoying yourselves, and I think that is the most important. Milo found you because of your shared interest, and according to you, this interest makes both of you happy. Who am I to treat you differently because of something you like to do?"
I sighed with relief, and my tail finally calmed down. To give Natasha a break, I loosened my grip on her somewhat.
"Drink your tea, dear. It'll get cold," Trisha recommended.
Fortunately, the tea was still at an acceptable temperature. It tasted good, so it did not take me very long to empty my mug. As I put it back on the table, I mentally scolded myself for not taking my chance to stall. After all, I had explained that Milo and I are littlefurs, but that was only the beginning.