Love Me, Love My Dog

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When Trudy showed up at my front door that evening I became an instant dog lover.

Don't get me wrong, Trudy is no dog. Far from it.

She batted her big baby-blue eyes at me and it was several seconds before I was able to break away from her gaze and examine the rest of her. What there was wouldn't quit and I saw an instant winner.

Trudy was built so that every last brick was perfectly placed. She was maybe five-four, with blonde hair that could light an absolutely black room. She had the face of an angel and-as I was to discover-the soul and body of a devil. The eyes gave me the message and that figure backed them up. Under her miniskirt lurked the shape of a vamp encased in the skin of a teen-ager.

The reason I became a dog lover was because of Alexander, our German shepherd. Maybe I don't have Alexander to thank, if I keep on going back. Maybe I should thank Amy because she'd never become pregnant.

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