Ch 5: Coming Out On Top by comidacomida

Ch 5: Coming Out On Top

Story by comidacomida on SoFurry

comidacomida, Anal, Bull Terrier, Convention, Friendship, Gay Relationships, Human, M/M, burb dog, chow

Coming Out On Top

It's not an easy task for a Burb Dog to find the right Leasher and it's even more

difficult when they realize that they might not be the Burb Dog a specific Leasher's looking

for. Any humans seeking to be a Leasher doesn't have it much easier. Different people seek

different things out of a relationship, and that's universal. One of the key elements to

finding a happy relationship lays in understand what you're seeking and helping to convey that

to your prospective partner. Likewise, being able to understand the needs and wants and

desires of your significant other will help you make sure that the person you've found is the

right one for you. But I'm not a relationship councilor, so forgive me if I've wandered.

A lot of people not in-the-know consider the Burb Dog movement to be a gathering of those who

have a specific kink, but that's not what it is at all. Aside from the fact that not all Burb

Dogs are interested in sex with humans, the different kinds of Burb Dogs approach relationships

in different ways. Yes, some may have elements of a sexual relationship, not all do. While I

admit that JD and I have a very healthy relationship on many levels, including sexual, not all

Burb Dogs and Leashers measure their adoration with sex, nor their intimacy by trips to the

bedroom. In the end, relationships are best measured with contentment and I think a large part

of contentment is finding a partner that will help balance you... and, in this case, i'm

talking about control.

I know people will argue until the end of time that balancing control in a relationship is par

for the course in any relationship, Burb Dog or otherwise and I agree. Understanding the flow

of control that you want out of a relationship can help establish an understanding with your

significant other. No one should 'settle' in a relationship. Knowing what you or your

prospective partner wants, needs, and desires out of a relationship is the key to finding

happiness. It's all tall order, I know, especially for such a small sub culture like Burb Dogs

and Leashers, but it's a very important part to any relationship, Burb Dog or otherwise.

Without really understanding Burb Dogs it's hard to see how the control in a relationship

fluctuates. For the most part, these are very individualistic, but generalities can be made

depending on the division of Burb Dog, but I'm not exactly into teaching sociology classes, so

I figure the best way to get the idea across is with some anecdotes. As I've always said, I

only use names when given permission. For the sake of categorizing, I'll go through the list

in descending order of control the human in the relationship has: Puppy, Traditional Burb Dog, and Guard Dog. Bad Dogs are a classification of their own as well, but, because of the sensitive subject matter, I'll avoid them for now.

The subject of the Puppy Burb Dog is one that is often overlooked or skipped because of how foreign it is to most peoples' ideas of what a Burb Dog is. Out of all divisions of Burb Dogs, Puppies are the least likely to have a sexual relationship with their Leasher and the most likely of all Burb Dogs to seek out a Leahser or Leashers who is/are already established relationship. For the sake of discussion, I'll focus on Honey, the Puppy of a very dear friend, Dr. Fredrich Weidtman.

Honey is one of the sweetest, most loving, pleasant Dogs I've ever met. She is always smiling and I don't think she knows how to NOT wag her tail. Now, despite what some might say about Puppies, Honey does NOT wear diapers, does not use a bottle, and does not speak in 'baby talk'; while some Puppies may also exhibit Infantism, the majority do not. Honey is a fully self-sufficient Dog and she has an incredibly keen mind. What identifies Honey as a Puppy is the fact that she is energetic, eager to please, and obsessed with being the object of affection for her chosen humans.

Honey first met Dr Weidtman after an emergency surgery. Keep in mind that this was close to twenty years ago, so most of what everyone today takes for granted as common knowledge about the sub-culture was far from being in general circulation (the Internet really helped expand and identify Burb Dog society). Dr Weditman was not the managing physician, but he ended up encountering her on his rounds. They apparently hit it off right away and once Honey was well enough to be up and about Dr Weidtman spent any extra time he had walking her around the hospital grounds.

As it happened, the doctor who was acting caregiver to Honey had his workload increased, so it didn't take much for Dr Weidtman to step in and offer to take over. Honey was in the hospital for two weeks before being discharged, and by that time, the Doctor-Patient relationship had turned into a Leasher-Puppy one. Dr Weidtman gave orders and nothing pleased Honey more than following them. Once Honey was discharged, the two agreed to meet at a restaurant so Honey could be introduced to Dr Weidtman's wife, Courtney. Although it's not unfair to think that problems could have arisen, they actually didn't; Courtney has always been just as much of a Leasher as her husband, and she was overjoyed at the prospect of meeting a new Dog.

Dr Weidtman, as anybody who's in-the-know is aware, is a tall, thin, professional man whose stoic appearance is exactly what you'd expect of a long-time doctor. He doesn't often smile and usually speaks in an even, official tone with a faint German accent. Most people, however, do not know his wife, who is, in many ways his opposite. Courtney Weidtman is a beautifully plump, shorter lady who works as a first grade teacher. She is always smiling and has one of the most expressive voices I've ever heard; and she's a great singer. She's from Connecticut, thus she does not share her husband's accent-- though she's very good at mimicking it when she's playfully poking fun at him.

Together, the couple took another two weeks to get to know Honey. Before her surgery, Honey had been going to art school but, because of her inability to take classes during the recovery time, the conditions of her student loans caused them to come due. Since she was unable to continue her schooling if she wanted to cover rent, Honey was forced to make a choice. While her first plan was to give up her classes, Mrs Weidtman had no intention of hearing it; Honey ended up moving in with the Weidtmans so she could continue going to college.

The Weidtmans had a spare room they had rented out before, to another Dog, I understand. He was, in fact, the one responsible for helping them realize that they were Leashers. While I don't know the specifics of the relationship, it had apparently come to its conclusion some time before they met Honey and he'd gone on his way. Honey accepted the room and continued going to school, graduated, and earned her degree. The arrangement worked so well, however, that she ended up staying, and the three have lived together ever since.

The Weidtmans have three kids. all of whom have grown up with Honey being a member of the household. Their oldest is a few years younger than me, and he just recently started seeing a foreign exchange student from Egypt, a Saluki, or so I'm told. From what I've heard, she sounds like a good match for him, but considering Egypt's strict code of conduct regarding humans and Dogs interacting, I can only hope she qualifies to have her VISA extended.

Honey still acts as the Weidtmans' live-in help. She keeps the house straightened up and sees to meal preparation. Although it's not required of her, she says it helps her feel like she's not being a drain on her Leashers. She's helped them redesign the layout of their house, helped them pick furniture and painted every single room they have... some more than once. On a few occasions she's even acted as an interior decorator for some of the Weidtmans' friends, and has something of a name for herself on that level.

So now, about two decades later, all three are still happy. It's unusual in most cases for a Puppy relationship to last so long; usually the Dog starts feeling neglected as the human slowly loses interest, or the Human tires of always having to look out for, care for, and decide for their Puppy. In the case of the Weidtmans and Honey, however, they seem to be able to make it work. Honey contributes in tangible ways around the house, and also in the emotional ways that most Puppy-Preferring Leashers look for: her tail still wags just as fast, she's still there at the door to greet them every day with wide-eyed adoration, and she still listens to their every word and complies with each and every request.

The Weidtmans have Honey's best interests in mind at all times. Every request they make of her and every decision they make on her behalf puts her needs at the forefront. It's easy for some Leashers to go overboard with a Puppy, who some categorize as a willing slave. The longest, most successful relationships however are when Leashers give over a large portion of their lives to their Puppy because they know that their Puppy is going to do everything to make them happy. In return, that Puppy needs someone with the foresight and strength of character to return the favor. Regardless of the fact that the Leasher is the one in charge, they are just as much beholden to their Puppy, because no relationship is a one-way street. As far as reciprocation-without-going-overboard, however, I think traditional Burb Dogs are one of the best examples.

The most successful traditional Burb Dog relationship I can think of involves a wonderful

couple by the name of Jean and Lion-of-Kingstown (Leon, for short). I met them, believe it or

not, at the first furry/fur-free convention I ever went to. This was about a month after I

went to my first Burb-Dog/Leasher convention... yea... it was quite the summer schedule for my

show. Apparently the organizers of the Burb-Dog/Leasher convention I went to in St Louis had

passed my name along to the organizers of Con-Fur-Mation, a convention for Furries and

Fur-Frees held yearly in Las Vegas. Needless to say, when the invite came the company

scheduled the flight for JD and myself without batting an eye; the ratings for the earlier

convention segment were some of the best I'd had.

After attending my very first convention ever, I had an idea what to expect out of

Con-Fur-Mation, but I once again was proven wrong. While I considered the St Louis convention

to be big, it paled in comparison to the gathering in Las Vegas. It's unfair to compare the

two conventions, I suppose, since they're each vastly different in subject matter and

interaction. There are some similarities, like comparing a comic book convention to a

roleplaying convention-- I won't go into details, but hopefully it illustrates my point. In

the end, however, I'd say that having the St Louis B.D.A.L. (Burb Dog And Leasher) Convention

under my belt made understanding and integrating into Con-Fur-Mation that much easier.

I spent almost the entire first day there interviewing the organizers and getting to know the

schedule. As for the first night, I finally had a chance to mingle with the crowd. With what

limited information I had on the topic (despite attempting to do as much research as possible

beforehand), I'd come to expect almost every Furry was a human, but I discovered otherwise.

Among my top favorites (I apologize if I embarrass anybody), a white German Shepard who colored

his fur to look like a fox, a Lhasa Apso cut and colored to look like a koala, a St Bernard

with clips on her ears and dyed fur who went as a black bear, and, of course, Leon.

JD and I had just dismissed the rest of the crew for the night and we were settling down at a

table in the restaurant portion of the hotel that the convention had 'taken over' for the

weekend. When I say 'taken over', I do mean figuratively, but the management was welcoming

enough that the Furries and Fur-less went well outside the designated area with their blessing.

I was pleased to see that it didn't cause much of a disruption, though on more than one

occasion a passer-by paused to look at JD to figure out if he was really a Dog or if it was

THAT good of a costume.

"The next time someone stops and gawks I swear I'm gonna throw somethin' at em." he promised.

Thankfully, that didn't come to pass. The very next individual to come by was a gigantic Chow

with the most peculiar style of grooming. Picture if you will a seven foot tall golden-furred

Dog who looks, on all accounts, like a lion. I don't mean a passing resemblance, I mean having

almost all the fur on his body cut short except for a huge, flowing, brownish-gold mane. I say

'almost' because, at the end of his whip-like tail there remained a large tuft of fur, just

like on a lion. He was, I also noticed, a lion with a collar.

The Dog's 'mane' traveled beneath his collar down to the middle of his chest and almost

disappeared into the smooth shaven portion, but a very faint line of it continued downward to

disappear into the elastic band of his shorts. It was as if he wore his vest open in order to

show it off. At the time I wondered if he did that on purpose just to make people wonder just

how far it went-- if it was the case, it sure worked, "Wow..." I remember saying. The single

word comment didn't sit well with JD, obviously.

"Feh..." my Guard Dog commented dryly, "I could shave my fur and go as a baby rat, but I'd

still be a Dog."

I smiled at the comment, and focused back on JD; he wasn't the jealous type because, and I'm

going to quote him here, "You're not going anywhere else because you know you'll never find

anything better than what you get at home." Aside from the crassness of that pearl of wisdom,

he did have a point; my Guard Dog is the only one I need. I was content to continue our quiet

evening together, but the Chow had a different plan.

"ey mon... disea buai be Jason Cambell fron'se sho, 'Dog Eat Dog', ain'cha mon?" it took a

moment for me to realize that he was talking to JD and myself, pretty much at the same time...

and he had a Jamaican accent. I'd never heard a real Jamacian accent before that.

"Yea... he is. And he's off work." JD answered with all the courtesy of a charging bull

elephant.

"We ju a do, mon? ... just comin' ta be sayin' ''ey'... no reason ta be gittin all papisuo."

the Chow responded. I consider myself pretty worldly, but I didn't really understand a lot of

what he said at that point.

Despite the less than welcoming introduction from my Guard Dog, the Chow invited himself to our

table, much to JD's chagrin. He introduced himself as 'di Leon a Kingston', or 'Leon' for

short. Leon, to this day, remains one of the most outgoing and open Burb Dogs I ever had the

pleasure of meeting. Not only that, but his attitude is infectious. In the first ten minutes

he spent with us he actually managed to get JD to smile. It wasn't a tail wag by any means,

but he got further with the terrier than most in so short a time.

Leon attended every convention that he could, which meant that he averaged three of them a

year. He was also, apparently, a fan of my show, and told me several times. He explained that

he attributed the majority of the success in his relationship to people like me who were

willing to live out in the open and pave the way for the rest of the community. Those are my

words paraphrasing, mostly Leon had some colorful words for uptight conservatives. I don't

still don't know what 'bomba claat' means, but I'm sure it can't be good.

Right as Leon was ordering another set of drinks for the three of us I heard something I hadn't

expected to hear in Las Vegas: a woman speaking in a downtown New York accent, "Leon! Where

the hell've you been? It's almost midnight!" It wasn't one of the harsh street-level, nasal

accents, but, after having lived there for a few years myself, it was still unmistakably New

York.

"'ey buais, disa fain uman be mi speshal gial." Leon motioned to the speaker as she

approached. If you've spent enough time in New York you'd understand what I meant when I say

that she had a 'casual city girl' look to her. And, if you've ever seen Sex in the City (or

spent any amount of time in Downtown New York) you'll know what I mean when I say that it's

obvious that she had some money to her. For those of you who have no idea what I'm talking

about, let's just say that I think her hat probably cost more than my entire suit. Despite the

obvious elitist clothing, she was a gorgeous black woman with fine features and flawless, ebony

skin; if I were straight, I might even have been interested (I've told her so several times

since).

She joined us at the table exactly as Leon did, but she did it with a certain grace that didn't

make it seem like she was imposing. Jean, as Leon introduced her, took a seat next to him and

ran her hand through his mane and he closed his eyes, leaning closer to her touch; his tags

jingled at the motion. I'd already figured out the connection that point, but my wonderful

Guard Dog finally put two and two together, "You're a Burb Dog." he blurted. Everyone at the

table laughed at his expense and, thankfully, he did too.

We were up until 3 am talking amongst ourselves. The more time Leon spent talking and the more

used to his accent I became the more I appreciated having met him. While I had assumed that

the world of Burb Dogs and Furries might intersect, I had the chance to meet one personally

along with his wonderful Leasher who not only humored his enjoyment of presenting himself as a

lion, she also encouraged him. I don't often have chances to have such intimate, relaxed

meetings with fans of my shows, and getting a chance to hear about them and from them is

something I've come to really enjoy.

But, more than anything, that single meeting created a relationship that has lasted for quite a

few years; I suppose it helps that they live about three or four hours away, but, like I said

before they're both really good people. It's strange to think that they ended up meeting

because of a live presentation I gave in New York, but I've heard of stranger ways to meet. In

the end though, I'm glad that they met, and I'm even happier that they met me.

Jean has been a guest on my show a few times and never ceases to amaze me about how much she

understands Dogs. Despite the fact that she works in corporate accounting her ability to

relate to people astounds me. She's been a Leasher for almost ten years and Leon is her second

Burb Dog; the first relationship ended amicably, if I recall. What really gets me about the

relationship she shares with Leon is how incredibly different they are, and yet how well they

get along together.

Leon is one of the most perfect examples of the intrinsic Burb Dog. He stays busy during the

day working at a distribution center for a major retail chain. He leaves after Jean and gets

home before her and waits patiently. They usually go for walks in the late afternoon and spend

their extra spare time at home together. Leon wears his collar everywhere and sometimes at

home he'll wear a leash just for Jean. There's a lot more detail I could go into, but in

respect for their private life, I'll get to the point.

As a couple, Jean and Leon share a lot of the responsibilities for managing the household but,

when it comes down to it, Jean is in charge. She often requests (and receives) input from Leon

and he listens and obeys obediently-- he IS a Burb Dog, after all. Leon is laid back and

relaxed and is content to have someone help direct him in his spare time; he doesn't mind being

told what to do. Jean is all business in her professional life, and that tends to bleed over

into her personal life too, which means finding someone who isn't intimidated by a strong

willed woman is the best thing she could have done-- she found that in Leon.

Don't get me wrong; Jean isn't an uptight control freak anymore than Leon is a listless

do-nothing... they just 'fit' together. The reason they work so well as Burb Dog and Leasher

is that they each fill the mold of what the other is looking for and that they share a deep,

loving bond for one another. Jean has had a few romantic relationships during the time that

she's been Leon's Leasher; they've come and gone, but Leon has remained a constant as roommate,

Burb Dog, and, most recently, a lover. I know I've said many times that not all Burb Dogs and

Leasher are sexually intimate, I also can't deny that spending that much time with such a

strong emotional bond can sometimes cause things to go 'to the next level'.

The focus of control in a traditional Burb Dog/Leasher relationship flows smoothly between the

two parties. While a Leasher is considered to be the 'dominant' person in the relationship

there is a certain amount of give that each party accepts. Leon has a thing for recreational

use of 'ganja' and Jean understands that. While she won't try to change that about him, she

refuses to let him bring any of it into their home and makes certain that she knows where he is

when he is using it; Leon complies with her request, making the understanding complete for both

of them.

Jean controls the finances in the household and Leon is more than happy enough to hand his

paycheck over to her. In return, she makes sure that he never goes without, and often buys him

special little treats, which he can appreciate all the more. There are a lot of little things

they do for none another as Burb Dog and Leasher that never cease to amaze and astound me. The

connection that they have is a lot more subtle, I think, than what, say, JD and I have. That's

not to say I'd trade my Guard Dog in for a Burb Dog-- far from it.

Unlike Burb Dogs, Guard Dogs tend to be a lot more direct with control. In any Guard Dog

relationship it is readily obvious that any prospective human has to know that they won't get

their way often. While I won't reveal my own personal secrets, I know I've discussed plenty of

them in the past. What it really comes down to is understanding your Dog and making sure that

he or she understands you. Being able to find a compromise without forcing your Guard Dog to

sacrifice their feeling of control and self-direction is key. The Guard Dog I have the most

experience with, of course, is my own Guard Dog: Jack-Daniels.

JD is one of those Dogs that desperately needs direction, but hates feeling like he's following

orders. I think he's become a lot better about accepting advice than he was, say, five or six

years ago, but he still likes to do things his own way and still rebels whenever he's told that

something has to be 'just so'. Like most Guard Dogs he wants to feel that I need him and that

he gets to influence his human's life for the better. As a target of his affection, I can

truthfully say that both of those above desires are reciprocated; I freely admit that life

wouldn't be the same without my wonderful Guard Dog and he has helped me go directions in life

that would have been all but impossible without him.

Very little is subtle about JD, and, as his human, the opposite tends to be true of me. Just

like with Jean and Leon, our relationship is based on being the other side of the coin for one

another. When JD wants control he is direct and takes it; I'm perfectly happy to let him run

with it in general, but I still have to be able to reel him in now and again; he doesn't always

like it but we both understand that it's necessary a times. The key to handling a Guard Dog in

an instance like that is to give them a way that they can voluntarily 'lend' you the

decision-making power. Believe me-- it really helps.

While I could list any number of whens and whys, I think one of the most poignant illustrations

of what I mean is something a lot more visceral. Again, I'll point out that Burb Dog

relationships are not always about sex, but in making my point on control I can't think of any

better example than when a Dog Guard is at his (or her) most primal. I've always felt that

it's important to be the kind of partner you would like to have, and that means taking your

other half into consideration. I've had bad days, and I know that JD has had plenty too--

being able to see this and understand it is one of the key elements to a happy relationship

(whether in or out of bed).

My Guard Dog is the kind of Dog who puts everything he has into everything he does; he

approaches life with gusto especially when it involves me. JD will often ignore his own needs

and wants to see to me first. He is considerate and loving (even if he makes a show of the

opposite) and he truly, truly cares. At risk to my own personal wellbeing in the event that he

ever heard that this got out: he is a big softie when it comes to his favorite human. It's one

of those many things I love about him, so I hope he doesn't mind me saying that TOO much.

The reason that I'm saying all this (aside from the fact that I like to celebrate my wonderful

Bull Terrier every chance I get) is that JD's tunnel-vision regarding me can cause me distress

at times because I don't want him sacrificing himself for me-- I want us both to prosper

together, not at his expense. It's hard to have a healthy, meaningful relationship when one

party is burning the candle at both ends; it's up to the human to help regulate that and help

the Guard Dog by being good at balancing needs and wants.

Anyone who has ever had a Guard Dog knows that no about of objection will get a Guard Dog to

behave any differently, so sometimes it is a matter of knowing how to reach them and get them

to understand your concerns without making them back down or surrender. JD has told me point

black that I am a conniving, tricky, sneaky little furless monkey, and that he likes that about

me. He also said I have a really nice ass, but I don't think that's pertinent for this

discussion. In the case of having a Burb Dog, knowing the best ways to get past naturally

strong will is imperative for the health of the relationship.

Even though JD has a job with 'Dog-Eat-Dog' it doesn't mean that we're together twenty four

hours a day, seven days a week. In fact, we might not catch more than a glimpse of one another

during the day. If there's a special project going and they need an extra set of paws, JD is

often one of their first picks, so we might even end up at different locations on some days. I

admit that I'm too busy to take lunch breaks on occasion and that always gets on JD's nerves.

What it comes down to is that sometimes I have good days and sometimes I have bad days;

sometimes JD has good days and sometimes he has bad days; we don't always have the same kind of

days at the same time.

I knew something wasn't right one day when we drove back to the apartment in silence. JD is

not naturally a quiet Dog and whenever he has nothing to say there's almost always a figurative

thunder cloud hanging over his head; that day was no exception. I knew better than to

interrupt the silence; JD never passed up the opportunity to talk when he was ready.

Throughout the car ride home he held his tongue.

Even once we got back to the apartment and the elevator doors had shut, he said nothing. I

slipped my hand into his paw and he gave it a light squeeze, his personal signal that he

appreciated my presence. We walked down the hallway in silence and I unlocked the door. He

went in first, and I followed. JD finally started talking once the time the door to the

apartment closed.

"One of the jackasses in Post was talking about you again today." he started. JD had a

tendency to refer to people as jackasses; by his count a good 3/4th of the production staff

were jackasses, which didn't do much to narrow down the list of who he might have been

referring to.

"About me? With my Guard Dog around?" I asked him, moving to take a seat on the couch, "It

couldn't have been bad if they saw you there-- everyone knows better than to do something like

that." I offered him an encouraging smile, but it was obvious that he wasn't in the mood to be

cheered up.

"I was outside in the hall... stupid bastard doesn't even bother talking quietly... he just

goes off on how much of an insufferable prick you've become." JD huffed, moving to take a seat

next to me on the sofa, teeth slightly visible beneath his half-snarl.

The comment made me pause, "Insufferable Prick?" If people have a complaint about me I've

always hoped that they'd tell me so I could have a chance to address it. I tend to take

critique seriously and do what I can to better the situation. Despite how I looked at the

situation at that point, however, I had trouble seeing that description fit me. I remember

wondering if it might have been a true statement; weren't 'insufferable pricks' so bad that

they didn't even realize they were so horrible?

"You aren't." JD spoke up quickly; he's always known me well enough to recognize the signs

whenever I'm analyzing myself.

"And you told him so, I bet." I commented, knowing fully-well that whatever happened wouldn't

have involved a polite conversation.

"Hell yes... in stereo." JD held up both paws as fists.

"Oh JD..." I sighed, understanding more about why his day might have gone poorly.

JD's ears turned reddish as he glanced down and away from me, "Turns out he was talking about

Jason Myles Davis, the morning news anchor."

Everything began to make just a little more sense at that point, and, despite the fact that I

wanted to laugh at the sheer insanity of the situation, I couldn't help but feel bad about it.

"Thank you." is all I said, resting a hand on his paw.

JD looked up, cocking his head to the side, "For making an ass out of myself?"

"No..." I said with a smile, glancing sidelong at him, "For standing up for me."

My Guard Dog chuckled at that, letting me lace my fingers through his, "Standing up for the

news anchor, anyway... and that guy IS a royal prick."

"What do you expect from a guy whose parents named him after a jazz musician?" I countered, my

smile growing larger as his did. I grinned like a mad man when he looked at me cocking his

head further-- I love it when he does that.

"There's a musician named Jason Davis?" he asked.

"No," I laughed, "Myles Davis. I think that's why he uses his full name on the air."

"Wow... that does make more sense now." JD said with a contemplative nod.

"That isn't all that's bothering you though, is it?" I asked. When you've spent enough time

with anyone, Dog or otherwise you get to know their body language, and JD's was saying volumes

about his day; a misunderstanding like that was bad, but not bad enough to warrant his mood.

"I don't want to talk about it." he said with finality. I know when to leave something well

enough alone, and if JD isn't going to open up to me about something then I know that he still

needs time to sort through it himself.

I nodded and released his paw, patting the back of it with my hand, "Alright." I acknowledged

and stood up, "I'm going to change, and then look into getting something together for dinner.

"Just order Chinese." JD suggested, "You don't need to cook tonight."

"I was thinking about making meatloaf." I explained. I'm not sure what it is about meatloaf

that drives my Guard Dog crazy, but he can never get enough of it. His ears went up

immediately, and his tail gave a double-thwap against the sofa but, to my surprise, it paused

and returned to its prior position. The next words out of his muzzle were a bigger surprise.

"Nah... that's alright... we can save it for another night." I'm not usually prone to

overreacting, but that got me worried.

"JD..." I said, leaning against the wall next to the hallway, "is everything alright?"

My Dog let out a deep breath before speaking, "I got a call from Matty today."

"Matty?" I asked. It wasn't that I didn't know the name, I knew who Matty was-- one of the

Dogs that JD used to hang out with in high school. He hadn't heard from any of the old gang

since he stood up for me so it seemed almost inconceivable that he'd get a call from one of

them, "How'd he find you? Why would he call?"

JD shrugged and answered simply, "He called to let me know that Jumper died yesterday."

Everything started to make more sense immediately: Jumper was another one of the group that

he'd hung out with in high school, "Wow." it wasn't as eloquent as I'd normally expect from

myself, but I was still surprised by that point, "I'm sorry to hear that."

JD stood, shrugging again, "I'm not... he was a jackass."

"Are you alright?" I asked.

"Yea." he answered, walking past me down the hall. Needless to say, I followed him. JD

mutedly took off his shirt and tossed it onto the floor. He laid down on the bed, on his

stomach, arms curled up beneath a pillow and rested his chin atop it. Quietly, I took a seat

beside him and rested a hand on his back. I didn't say anything; it wasn't my place to.

"Matty got out of 'the life' around the time you and me finished college." JD explained, "We've

been in touch on and off since then."

"Good." I remember feeling a lot of mixed emotions about that admission. JD and I weren't ones

to keep secrets from each other, and I figured that his old high school buddies would have come

up in conversation if he was in contact with one of them, yet they never did. On the other

hand, I realized that we also didn't make it a point to keep tabs on one another, so it wasn't

something worth overreacting about.

"Matty ended up getting dragged out of the life by this girl... Sunny. He's working for her

dad's construction company now... good money... seems happy." JD continued.

"That's great, JD... I'm glad he finally found something worthwhile." I patted his back

lightly, and he sighed.

"It's funny how people change sometimes, isn't it?" he asked. JD is NOT the kind of dog that

waxes philosophic on a general basis, so the question caught me off guard.

"Hmm?" I inquired.

"There's just three of us left..." JD explained, rolling over so he could look up at me, "Matty

and me and Clod."

"Clod? He's the Mastiff, right?"

JD nodded, "Yea he's in prison for the third time... paralyzed from the waist down."

"Really?" I didn't have to pretend to be surprised, "How?"

"How is he in prison, or how did he get paralyzed?" JD asked. I recognized it as him being his

usual belligerent self... even in his mood he wasn't willing to let me get any easy information

out of him.

"Both." I answered with mock frustration; his tail stirred slightly, almost tempted to wag.

"He got involved in a crowed that was even worse than what he'd been in before... did some

things he shouldn't have... then got shot after trying the police-suicide thing." it all came

out of JD as if by rote, casually, and in a simple, straight-forward tone.

"That's horrible." I acknowledged, resting my hand on his sternum.

"Thing is..." my Dog let out a deep breath, "That could have been me."

"No... that couldn't have been you." I countered.

"It could have if you wouldn't have come along." he contested, reaching up to cover my hand

with one of his massive paws.

"JD... who you were and who you are now are two completely different dogs.

"I know," he acknowledged, "it just reminds me of... of... everything."

"Being reminded of where you came from isn't a bad thing... just so long as you remember that

you aren't there anymore." I offered.

"Sometimes I just get worried that I'm going to do something stupid that'll cost me more than I

can pay." he offered, looking up at me, "I mean... not in dollars... I mean figurative-stuff."

The comment made me smile, "You won't, JD... I believe in you. You're a good dog." I

explained, leaning over him to touch my nose to his.

"Even when I want to be bad." his tail began to pick up speed, and I realized that whatever

I'd done for JD had worked; that was the furry bundle of hedonism I knew and loved. JD's paws

found their way to my shirt, pulling it up and over my head even as I worked to unbutton it.

He pulled it free and threw it to the floor to join his.

"You're not avoiding the issue, are you?" I challenged, taking hold of his paws before he could

get them to the zipper of my jeans.

"Quiet, human, or I'll nip you." he countered; we both knew that I wasn't about to call his

bluff.

JD hadn't worked through what was bothering him, but he was content to distract himself and how

could I argue with his choice of distraction? My Guard Dog helped me out of my jeans and I

slid down to the mattress between his legs with my chest laying across the shorts covering his

groin; I could already feel his firming sheath beneath the fabric. As usual, JD admired my

furless body complete with underwear as I worked his zipper down. If you've never undressed a

dog before let me tell you now: Dogs that wear zippers either have a lot of faith in their

lover or they're a masochist. Fur and zippers do NOT go well together. Thankfully I'm good

with my hands, or so JD tells me.

I about-faced to work his shorts down off his legs. With just enough time to throw the

clothing into the growing pile in the corner, my legs were hoisted up into the air by JD as he

hefted them up with one paw, second grabbing the elastic of my underwear before pulling them

straight off me with only pause enough to adjust his grip on my ankles. After tossing them in

the same direction as the rest of the discarded clothing he dropped me right back down to the

mattress before pulling me close to him in a powerful hug against his abdomen.

"Thank you for being my human." he spoke, voice crackling faintly, almost unnoticeable... but

still noticeable to me. I realized at that point that he wasn't seeking a distraction from his

emotions... he was looking for reaffirmation, but he just didn't know how to ask.

"Thank you for being my Guard Dog." I answered back, crawling up through his hug so I could kiss

him on the muzzle. I could feel a wave of strain and stress leave his muscles, and my

wonderful Dog began to relax the moment my lips touched his, and his tail started to softly

beat against the mattress. I reached up beneath the pillow and pulled out a tube of lubricant;

JD's tail picked up the tempo. "I love you." I told him.

"I love you too." he responded, and leaned forward to lick my neck. I don't know what it is

about JD, or maybe it's just me, but he always seems to know the right action for the right

moment, and that was no exception. He leaned further forward, teeth brushing my throat and I

gasped at the feeling; I wasn't afraid-- JD wasn't going to hurt me. I drew away from his

muzzle with great reluctance, but I was ready, and I knew that if I waited too long he'd be