"The Dog Days of Summer"
by Whitenoiz

     Father only had practical advice for me and I guess that's the best kind of advice there is... 

     "Hey, hamburger-breath! Brush your damn teeth - they'll fall right out of your head!" he'd say, clacking his partials at me in warning.

     "Change your socks every once in a while! Your feet are going to rot and nobody wants to get next to someone stinking like rotting feet! Hell! change your socks every day - you need to!"

     I remember he sat me down one summer day and asked me, "You been at it again, boy - haven't you?"

     I made like I was innocent which was near to impossible with Boss humping at my leg and yipping and drooling like he was.

     "Son, I told you not to jack off the dog. You get him all weird that way. Now, tell me - you've been jacking off the dog again? Don't lie."

     I couldn't look him in the eye because I'd been foolish. I was bored and the days had been getting longer. I just stared at my feet - Boss running around them, jumping up and down. It was so obvious. His dick was poking out of his sheath like a lipstick on my mother's dresser. I felt foolish.

     "Son, you don't have to say a word. Boss here, is telling me all I need to know." Father moved his hand quickly and I ducked, winced. He just laughed.

     "You thought I was going to hit you? Hell, no! I was young once, too. I remember being bored and hot afternoons feeling like years... but you don't jack off the dog. You get him all weird!"

     Boss pawed at my leg. I ignored him.

     "See, son, you jack off a dog, you mess him up. A dog can't jack himself off - that's nature's way. So, you do a dog a favor like that, you make a monster. He's going to want it all the time. You're going to be eating your breakfast and he's going to be there, looking up at you with those deprived eyes."

     "You want to run down to the creek for a swim, he'll be tripping you up trying to fuck your feet!"

     I opened my eyes - Father almost never used the word "fuck".

     "You want to lay down to sleep, he'll be right there - fleas in your bed - wanting some. And he'll be no good for hunting either. OK?" he paused, "I said, OK?"

     "Uh huh," I mumbled.

     "It's nature's way, son - a dog can't jack off and he don't need a helping hand. OK?"

     "Uh huh."

     "Now, my dad - he wasn't too smart and he was mean, too! If I made a dog weird like that, he'd take it to the woods and shoot it! No, I wouldn't be jacking off a dog again after that." I saw something dark and sad in my Father's eyes just then. He coughed, " ...but, I think you can get Boss back to his old self. Know how?"

     I shook my head, no.

     "See, Boss here, mistakes you for a bitch. What you got to do is treat him like a bitch would. If a bitch isn't ready for the male, she'll straight out ignore him... and if he still don't get the message, she'll bite him! Get it?"

     I felt foolish and continued to stare at the ground. Boss was right there, trying to catch my eye. Something wet leaked from his dick just then and dripped down into the grass.

     "Son, dogs are man's best friend... but he isn't much of a friend like that, is he?"

     Boss jumped up at me, landed on my crotch, putting a pain in my balls and muddy pawprints on my jeans. Like reflex, I said, "Damn it, get down!"

     "Son, you haven't tasted him, have you?"

     I said nothing.

     "Have you?"

     "I was curious!" I blurted out, "I didn't like it!"

     Father laughed, "Yeah! most boys don't... but them that do, most of them can't get enough of it. You're OK, son."

     I really didn't know what Father was referring to, then. He cuffed me in the head - not to hurt me, just playful-like - an easy warning.

     "Now, you get down to the barn. I'm sure there's some work needing done. Don't fuck every day of your life away!"

     He said "fuck" twice!

     I headed that way - to the barn - almost falling flat on my face on account of Boss.

     "Treat him like a bitch would, boy!"

     I ignored him and when he almost tripped me up again, I gave him a swat.

     "There you go!" my Father called after me. As I walked off, Father just sort of chuckled, said, "Crazy kid!" to himself.

     Father only gave me practical advice and sure enough, I was able to get Boss back to his old self. Only not as soon as I should have, because you know... I was bored and the days just kept getting longer.


(Feedback is welcome; you may contact the author at <wberry@cyberstache.com>.)
