Médor’s kiss.
(Part I)
Do you like dogs? I just do. Okay, not all of them, but I do most breeds. Of course, I am in good company since, according to Wikipedia, canis canis has been one of our trusty comrades for more than 30,000 years. Oh, I really do not have anything against cats, but given their independent manners, I choose Pluto’s affection without hesitation. Ah, I hear cats owners’ general outcry. But I am saying that probably because I have never owned a cat, while, in the past, I had my very own little doggie.
So, I just established that I like dogs. However, there is a limit to everything, is not there, even in our rapports with those called man’s (and woman’s) best friends. In the present case, that boundary is located at the mouth, with all due respect for Médor.
Where am I going with this? Very simple. We have all seen those TV – and real life – scenes showing people kissing their dogs on the mouth, with the latter asking no better than to apply a sizable and slobbering tongue over the cooperating lips and all over the face altogether. I say no thank you. A little too much for me. Granted, if I were unconscious and my life depended on those charitable lickings, I would not protest — I would not be able to, anyway –. But that is about it.
What do I have against that particular display of affection? And what explains that other people just bask in it? Well, my contention is I doubt that my German shepherd’s saliva is the safest for me or for anybody, for that matter. Conversely, Lucky’s wet kiss aficionados proclaim that a canine’s mouth is cleaner than that of a person. Who is right?
(To be continued)
Frantz P.
