Uncle Ray, my mother’s brother, was visiting a friend in Marina del Rey a few months ago, so we arranged to meet at the Rose Café in Venice for brunch. I brought Tommy along so we could walk on the beach afterwards. When we finished brunch, Uncle Ray and Aunt Sylvia came out to the car to meet him.
I opened the Mazda hatchback door, and Tommy jumped up to put his front paws over the back seat, where he was sitting, to face the action. One ear up, one ear down, he welcomed Uncle Ray with his irresistible, exuberant self. Uncle Ray laughed and moved closer to scratch him behind the ears and stroke his head, actions akin to winding up an Energizer bunny. I held Tommy’s collar to try and restrain him while, with the force of a bull, he pulled to lick Uncle Ray right on the kisser.
Instead of recoiling or turning away, Uncle Ray closed his eyes, pursed his lips and moved right in on Tommy, who proceeded to slobber all over his face. Uncle Ray smooched Tommy right back, repeatedly, cooing all along. It was a regular love fest.
I come from a long line of crazy dog people.