GOOD TO TOUCH

A friend has a dog that does not trust me. It's a very nice dog, too, which is why it's upsetting.
One does not mind unlikeable creatures being worried about one's presence, but when loveable beings shun a person, it hurts.

This nice doggie was adopted from the Humane Society.
Her previous human was brute with a beard.
Consequently beards disturb her.
I have a beard.

I do not see the dog often enough to consider shaving my beard.
She doesn't bark or growl at me, she just looks disconcerted.
Which is not really the effect I wish my facial hair to have.

My beard is part of my self-image at this point. Some people may snidely liken it to a toilet brush in appearance, but when I look in the mirror I see someone I know and trust. The kind of person I would want to know if he was someone else.

There's just something about that reflecting fellow.
Don't know what it is, but he seems quite nice.
Perhaps not when he cocks an eyebrow.
At that time he's rather devilish.
It's a gleam in the eye.

Excepting certain dogs ("Bella") and rabbits ("Thug One", and "Thug B") that are skittish around humans due to mean former owners, small creatures get along fabulously well with me. And that is a mighty good thing, abundantly appreciated. Small hairy individuals are fun to pet, and often have charming personalities.

A few of them don't realize that they aren't human.
It's sad when they discover that.
So sorry, no thumbs.
Or speech.

On the other hand, none of us can scratch our ears with a hind paw either.
That's quite the achievement, and you should be proud!
Come here and let me rub your belly.
Wuzza wuzza wuzza.

Small furry things. Good for the soul. And fun for fingers.


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