I sit silently on an old fieldstone wall, concealed by a centuries' growth of green, watching the gray furred forms moving slowly past the trees a hundred yards ahead, as they chat with their daughter.
'Damn!' I think to myself. Sure, the Smittes are a sweet elderly couple, but they're utterly clueless ... which is fortunate for me and my 'special friendship' with ... oh, wait, there he is!
Samuel's ears perk up as one of his acute senses detects me. The Smittes idly chat, unaware as he rises from his slumber at their feet, looks directly at me through the brush for a few moments, then darts directly for me.
"Where's Sammy going?" the elderly Mrs. Smitte inquires as she tries to locate the target of his attention with her failing, tired eyes.
"Probably out after another squirrel, dear," answers Mr. Smitte, not even bothering to turn around to see.
They return to their chatting of old times as Samuel waits, proximate to me at the base of the wall. He wags his tail, but does not bark, just gazes at me with his sparkling blue eyes. He idly paws at the air toward me; I casually smile back at the 4-year-old white shepherd. I lick my lips in anticipation; at this signal, Samuel darts off alongside the wall, and within moments finds and crawls through an old culvert running under the wall. I recall the day 3 years ago when he managed to claw off the metal grate covering the culvert trying to get to me on the other side.
Three weeks I have been gone on a business trip, and all the while, Samuel was all I have thought of.
The Smittes know Samuel likes me ... but they really have no clue exactly how much.
I hop off on my side of the wall, and Samuel rushes too me. He immediately rapes my face with his tongue, his tail curled in an 'S' to the ground, its tip twitching in excitement.
I gazed into his eyes as his kisses found their way into my own mouth. No words can describe his sparkling blue sapphire eyes set in his gorgeous white fur. Three weeks of dull meetings and fluffed corporate b.s ... in agonizing absence of Samuel's love.
Numerous times, Samuel has left the Smittes for days at my place, until they called and unable to come up with a good excuse, I grudgingly return him. They are a sweet couple, but quietly I hope Samuel outlives them; I long for his living with me.
In frustration, I bought four dogs of my own - including two white shepherds with blue eyes similar to Samuel ... but it did not take long for me to realize my folly. They are all sweet, all love me, but none of them are Samuel.
I curl an arm behind Samuel's head, holding him and closing my eyes as his kisses tickle my tonsils. With my eyes still closed, my other arm guides my hand along his spine, relishing the feel of his coat.
I knew Samuel from a puppy ... his mother was under my care, actually, but died from complications from delivering the litter. My life has changed hordes since then ... all for the better, all because of Samuel. I lived in a tent then, out of work for a year and a half, thanks to the slowdown in aerospace. I sold what few family heirlooms I still clung to in a failed attempt to save his mother ... if only I had known the veterinarian was so incompetent ... but I was out of choices.
The Smittes were happy to take a pup, but from the day I gave him to the neighbors across the wall, he kept trying to find his way back to me and my pathetic tent.
Never having even been on a date, tired of a world of shallow people, I wallowed in my own misery. Krystal, Samuel's mother, meant more to me than my own 'family.' She licked the tears from my face when I lost my job, she stayed by me through the darkest times of my life ... I thought several times of her as my 'wife,' but never summoned the gall to carry our relationship far.
Samuel has a lot of his mother in him, but has his own spirit by his own right. He did not wait for me to 'wake up' to the possibilities ... he pushed to show me true love, on levels I had ignored the possibility of with his mother while she was alive.
Samuel let me feel true love, on levels far deeper than I think would be possible with another person. Countless times he's 'hopped the fence' to me, for a long time merely at his own initiative. For the first six months or so after his first time making love with me, I always left it to his initiative; I found myself wishing he wouldn't come, as it hurt knowing he couldn't stay. My mind ached for a possibility ... then Mr. Smitte had his stroke. I have always been just a 'good' boy ... but with his tragedy, I saw opportunity: maybe they would have to give up Samuel. On that small, selfish thought, I began to plan. I caught a second wind to work odd jobs until I could find a better one ... a great job (or, more accurately, great-paying) landed in my lap before I knew it. I homesteaded where I had tented ... with my newfound ambition, I built my own comfortable log house amid the twenty acres adjoining the Smittes'.
Samuel pulls back slightly and woofs, awakening me from my recollection. I smile as I spot the purple-pink evidence of just how excited Samuel is to see me.
"Alright, Samuel, you know where to go!" I chuckle.
Samuel darts directly to my house as I run to catch up. He paws at the door latch, and with his experience, unlatches the door, cracking it open. He nuzzles his way inside; my white shepherds Samantha (who went into heat today, according to the kennels I boarded her and the rest of the pack with) and Sylk, German Shepherd Dustin, and black lab Ebony bark excitedly at his entrance. By the time I reach him, I find Samuel already laying on my bed on his back, his paws curled and his pink showing. My pack returns to their treat of freshly chopped and cooked beef brisket in the kitchen, as I lick my lips again, gazing at the meat treat awaiting me.
I eagerly slip out of my clothes and crawl onto the bed next to Samuel, holding the back of his head again with one arm, my other arm holding him just above his tail as he delivers another passionate kiss. Samuel's tail tickles my bare thighs. After a few more minutes, Samuel woofs again, signalling me his readiness for 'second base.'
I smile and comply with his request, turning myself around so we lay in a 69 position; my lips find their way around his member as he half-swallows my own excitement in his muzzle. He gently chews, his tongue actively lapping my length to my balls as his panting breath warms me.
Samuel thumps his tail on the bed and slightly thrusts. I clamp my lips on his member just beneath his knot as his tongue expertly massages my tip. Sooner than I anticipate, my spirit and body twitch as I near climax. Samuel pants, and his tail thumps even more fervishly as he anticipates what comes next -- and out it does come, not a drop touching my quilt. His precum begins dribbling into my waiting mouth as he swallows my seed. Samuel usually beats me in going first, but three weeks of agonizing loneliness left my entire being starving for his ministrations.
Moments after my last drop of seed found its new home, Samuel finally thrusts in a manner I recognize as his nearing climax. The delicious salty treat spurts endlessly, as Samuel laps my balls and further around the bend. My nostrils breathe heavily into his lightly furred balls as I eagerly swallow what I know will be a long-coming load.
His usually last more than 20 minutes, sometimes over an hour, but to me, the end always comes far too soon. The Smittes disappear, as do the rest of the world, when I find myself wrapped in his loving paws. As Samuel's spirit invigorates and surrounds my soul in that magic reality he always gives me, only he and I exist in the universe. My thoughts never stray from him, of the magic energy between us.
The doorbell tips me off the edge of our altered reality. 'What the hell?' I nearly think aloud, as I roll over and part the drapes near the bed with my hand, just enough to identify any car in the driveway. No car besides my minivan!
'Great, a neighbor,' I think to myself. "Just a minute!" I yell as I put my clothes on, adjusting them as neatly as I can in the mirror, knowing all the neighbors knew me to be single.
Samuel utters an annoyed whine.
"I know, love," I tell him as I walk to the front door.
He whines again, then gets up.
"See if my pack's done," I tell him; he stands, stretches, yawns, ponders a few moments, then hops off the bed and pads into the kitchen.
I open the door ... and to my surprise, I find the Smitte's daughter ... looking perplexed.
"Yes ... Traci, is it?"
"Yes. Can I come in?"
I hear padding behind me.
"Hi, Sammy!" says Traci.
Without even turning to look, just by the sound of his padding, I correct her. "That's Sylk. Samuel is in the kitchen."
I invite her to a seat in my living room.
"What can I do for you?"
"I'm glad to see you back from your trip."
"Just got back today. What can I do for you?"
Traci looks down a bit. "I never thought I would have to do this ... but ... I'm gonna have to move my parents in with me. They just can't take care of themselves anymore."
Samuel! Could this be...?
As if on cue, Samuel pads down the hallway and lays in front of my chair.
"You sure have changed a lot since your days in a tent," she chuckles, looking around at my house. "-That- must be Sammy."
"I know Sammy keeps finding his way back here. While I wouldn't mind him, the neighborhood covenant where I live prohibits dogs. Would you terribly mind..."
'Terribly mind? Oh gee, of course I mind. I have four dogs already and you think I want to waste time...' ... I joke myself so hard that I laugh out loud. Samuel growls at me.
'Sorry, forgot you're psychic!' I mentally joke at Samuel.
He takes me by surprise at uttering a near-Hrrrrumph.
"I would love to, Traci," I finally say.
She sighs and relaxes, and talks of how worried she's become about her parents ever since her father's stroke. I see her moving to tears, and offer a hug. With the reality hitting, I do feel some pings ... the Smittes are sweet, happily married for 67 years. I knew it truly wrong to wish them harm, but I need Samuel in my life far more than the $80k salary job, the minivan, or the large house ... all these things, I got not for the sake of comforting myself in luxury, but for him ... to provide him comfort: the money to buy real meat instead of thrown-away garbage in cans; a mini-van to take him on long trips; and a large, spacious, warm and comfortable den.
Samuel thumps his tail ever harder as Traci finally bids her thanks and farewell.
He stands and wags excitedly as I escorted her to the door. I feel so grateful to her ... for reasons she would never be able to understand.
As I close the door, I think to myself ... in more ways than one, Samuel and I can now truly finish what we started.