Subtitle: From My Point of View
By Rex
My name is Rex. There is nothing hostile in what I did. Lionel has always treated me well. We have lived together for nine years. It is a quiet life, especially since Lionel's accident. Lionel can't move his legs but his arms still work, and that is good because although it can take him a while to get from his bed into the kitchen, once there he can use an electric can opener good as anyone. I get my Alpo every evening; sometimes he is late, but I have never missed a meal.
- Lionel is a partier. What happened to Lionel to slow him down happened at a party. He was high on something; I don't know what and I don't care 'cause I'm not the kind of dog who complains about what master does. The story is he jumped into a ceiling and broke his back. . . snapped or cracked or popped a vertebrate or some such thing, so I guess you could say Lionel has lost pieces of himself twice now in quite unusual ways. So really Lionel did it to himself and I don't feel guilty. I am still Lionel's dog, and I still sleep in his bed every night. Fact is, now there's more room for me.
- I am only a medium-size dog but Lionel has a single bed; he's never been a married man. He's a dog lover. And what happened didn't drive us apart. Fact is, it made us closer. Lionel didn't need the leg; he had no feeling in it cause of that vertebrate. You could say Lionel and I are part of each other now more than we ever were.
- Lionel and I live out in the country. . . in a doublewide. I know some people look down on people in doublewides, but you shouldn't and social class has nothing to do with what occurred between me and my master. Yes, my master. Though Lionel is a paraplegic, I still consider him my master. . . always will. I obey him. . . always. Dogs are loyal. And if Lionel were awake while it was happening and he objected, I would have stopped. All he had to do was say the word, but he couldn't. Lionel was asleep at the time and I was just waking up from one of those running dreams dogs have. It was a long dream. . . that is, it was a long run. I wasn't tired. . . I was excited and I was hungry.
- Our house is surrounded by pear orchards. Yes, we do live in a doublewide but we have acreage. Lionel lets me out every day. In our pear orchard there is a lot to do. True, the days of chase the stick are over. There are no other dogs around. The next door neighbor is pretty far away, and I don't know if he owns a dog or not, whether he lives in a house or a doublewide or even whether he can walk. Maybe the guy is just like Lionel and has no feeling in his legs, too. I don't know.
- Anyway, I like to run. Sometimes I'll come across a rabbit. I like to scare rabbits. I think they look pretty funny running way from me . . . the way their legs work, nothing like mine. And I like the smell of pears - especially when they are sweet and ripe. Actually, I like them best when they begin to rot. Rotten pears tempt me; I like to eat slightly rotten things, but I don't particularly like fruit. I like meat. I would never eat a rabbit; they are living things. Well, maybe a dead rabbit if I found one. I like bloody, chewy things. Of course, the problem with rabbits is their bone structure is so delicate. Probably get a splinter caught in my throat. I like big bones covered with thick, chewy, bloody, slightly rotting meat. That's what I really like.
- If you're ever going to understand what happened between Lionel and me, you have to understand my value system. I am a good dog and nothing that happened has changed Lionel's view of me. I suspect going from party-boy to paraplegic in your thirties makes you a realist. . . that is, if you want any sort of life at all. Nurse Nancy was a little shocked at first; I saw the expression that passed across her face. But Nurse Nancy has seen lots of things . . . no, more than "seen." Nurse Nancy has been on the front lines of several real horror shows. I'll tell you about one later that really disgusts me, and I'm a dog. And, that's just the point and it's a point Lionel understands and a point Nurse Nancy understands: dogs are dogs, people are people.
- O.K., I gotta tell ya' about the one that really makes my tail wag. And when dogs wag their tails, it's not always a good thing. Sometimes I think it is a bit of a defence mechanism. Nancy is what you call a visiting nurse. She sees people in their homes. . . homes meaning trailers, jails, psychiatric hospitals, halfway houses, drug rehab centers, old-age homes. . . you name it. Somma' these people are in really bad shape. Chronic conditions, total disabilities, amputees, dementia, totally crazy people, people recovering from the most God-awful operations. They don't keep you in a hospital any more. They send ya' home. You recover or ya' die, and while you've trying not to die in your home, you get a visit from Nurse Nancy who often as not is only trying to get you through to the next day.
- Dogs like shit, right? I mean do we smell each other's asses? Of course, we do. But have you ever seen a dog with his nose stuck up another dog's ass, really embedded in there? Of course not. We're sniffers. We just want to know things, know a little bit about the other guy (dog), that's all. And if by chance if we're not playing and we happen to roll around in dog shit, do we like that? Of course we don't. I mean how many times do we come home smelling like we just rolled in shit? Almost never, right. Once in a while it happens but we try to avoid it. We know we smell bad. I like smelling like a dog, not like dog shit.
- So, Nurse Nancy visits this fat guy. Actually, Nurse Nancy visits lots of fat people. It seems there are a whole lot of people living in chairs. That's right. They are so fat they can't move. There's actually equipment that they have in their homes to lift them out of the chairs so that injured and diseased body parts can be cared for. . . patched. I mean, what are things coming to? I like to run. I couldn't imagine living in a chair. But there is something I overhead Nurse Nancy telling Lionel about this one fat guy she visits and now when I look at fat people, I look to see how long their arms are. Not only how long but how round about they are. The arms, not the people. Well, the people, too. After this story that really grossed me out, I guess I've developed sort of a fascination about fat people. And really there are so many of them these days. Too damn many if you ask me.
- Well, this particular fat guy can still walk. As I remember it, he's about fifty. But he doesn't leave his house. Mostly he just watches T.V., dumb shows - what other kind are there on TV. Nurse Nancy has said that often when she shows up the guy is watching pornography. I don't know if the guy watches pornography all day or whether he's anticipating the arrival of Nurse Nancy. I don't understand human tastes in other humans, but I do see Lionel's reaction when Nurse Nancy arrives, so she must be pretty cute. (I've thought about taking a little sniff of her ass but being the good things she does for Lionel, I know this might offend her. But some days I think maybe she would understand that actually that would be a pretty flattering thing to do.
- Anyway. A little lesson in human body mechanics. How does a human being wipe his own ass? Think about it. The arm has to, one: rotate slightly in the shoulder socket. The forearm has to twist at the elbow. The underarm has to clear the side of the body - that's where there can be a whole lot of fat accumulated. The wrist has to be able to rotate, and you've got to be able to reach all the way to the anal sphincter. There are fat people who can't do this. There are days when I'm really happy to be a dog.
- So, this one fat guy who Nurse Nancy was telling Lionel about, he can't do this. He just stinks. Imagine stinking while watching pornography. There's probably something else the fat guy can't do. Well maybe he can. Now that I think of it, it's easier to reach in front of you than behind you if you're carrying an extra three hundred pounds or so. But it's not a pretty sight and the guy must get really out of breath.
- The story Nurse Nancy was telling Lionel was not a mean story and there was no desire on her part to deride, degrade, humiliate, embarrass, whatever one of her own patients. Fact is, Nurse Nancy seems to love her patients - even the fat smelly ones. It was one of Lionel's down days. Paraplegics have plenty of those, and I think Nurse Nancy's point was: there's a solution to everything.
- So this fat guy never leaves the house. But he does have a friend. One friend. Who comes over to visit. Actually, the two of them spend a lot of time together. A mutual interest in bad daytime T.V., and pornography. He's another fat guy. And he's got the same problem the first guy has, right. So what does Nurse Nancy do? Did you guess? Grosses me out and makes me real glad I'm only a dog. . . a dog with dog body mechanics. Well, have you guessed yet? Nurse Nancy, God bless her, taught these guys to wipe each other's asses. So I guess she'd say the point is: there's a solution to everything. I'd say the point is: don't get that fat.
- So when Nurse Nancy saw what happened between Lionel and me. . . I don't like to say that Nancy saw what I did. That sounds like a guilt trip. . . . saying it that way. It happened. I'm a dog. Well, she just took it in stride. I saw an expression pass over her face. Then she just looked at Lionel, looked at me in that accepting way she has. She reached down and patted me on the head. . . then she just cleaned up the mess.
- I know that some masters. . . some people, woulda had me put to sleep. And I'm even a little concerned about telling this story to David A. Goldstein, Nurse Nancy's boyfriend because people might read this story and those people might wanna have me put to sleep. Nurse Nancy has told me how often this guy, her boy friend, actually gets published, so the way I figure it, I probably got not much to worry about. And telling my story does get things off my chest. Not that I feel guilty. I don't but, hey, I did see the initial reaction that passed across Nurse Nancy's face. I think the point is, my point is we all just gotta understand each other. I mean can't we all just sorta get along? Maybe when we see two fat people together we shouldn't feel disgust. Maybe we should all be a little bit more like Nurse Nancy. Be a better place here, wouldn't it.
- I don't know how Lionel cut his foot. I mean the guy doesn't walk. . . well he does in his paraplegic Lionel way, so he coulda scraped it on something. As I said, I was having one of my running dreams. I was asleep in bed next to Lionel like I am every night. It's really a good, good thing, me and Lionel in bed together every night. Lionel was fast asleep. And I woke out of sleep, a really deep sleep, and instantly I feel one thing: hungry. Lionel sleeps in the nude. I like this about Lionel. Well, there's this cut on his foot and it's bleeding a little bit. It's red and it's smelly and I like that. So I start to lick it. Lionel doesn't wake up. He can't feel me licking it. He's a paraplegic and if I want Lionel to feel my love for him, I have to lick him on the face or somewhere. . . anyway, somewhere above his waist. So, I'm licking away and I know it's not to make Lionel feel better. . . it's 'cause I just like the taste of blood. Nothing wrong with that. It's just my nature.
- So, I'm licking away and things are smelling better and better. And dogs tongues are pretty rough, so I don't know whether I caused the skin to split or whether Lionel did this to himself. Who knows when but you know what skin holds. Actually, people are in a way just like sausages. . . skin covering meat. Except unlike sausage, with people there's also a bone, which is really pretty nice. Well, why be coy. . . I just gotta say it: I ate Lionel's leg, the right one, half way up to the knee. He didn't feel a thing. Guy never woke up.
- I tell you, Lionel's an incredible guy. Slept soundly. Woke up the next morning. Every thing normal. Must have been maybe two minutes before he noticed the bloodstains on the sheets, bits of flesh and bones. . . some people would say "the mess," but from my point of view, things looked pretty good. Lionel looked about him. Looked at me. He smiled. Truly. I was looking up at him like I always do . . .I mean I didn't feel I'd done anything wrong. My eyes were those doggy eyes, filled with love, longing, and loyalty. Know what Lionel said?
- "Good dog." I can't say he laughed or even smiled. He was pretty matter-of-fact. He just said "guess there'll be more room for you now." That's a realist. He reached down, petted my head and repeated: "Good dog." It was only when I caught Nurse Nancy's expression. . . the first one. . . the one before she'd thought about how best to react. . . that I even had a clue about how others might think about that happened between Lionel and me. And seeing her reaction and the reaction of a few other people who were told my story. . . well. . . I just fully realize what an incredible guy my Lionel is.
- This all happened a year or so ago. We share the same doublewide as always. The same bed. I run in the pear orchard every day. We both wait regularly for Nurse Nancy's arrival. Such a kind woman.
- Yesterday, I noticed a small scratch on the sole of Lionel's left leg.
