Flash Friday 6-6-14 Bones II in Flash Friday

“Love is a dog.”

She scowled, wrapped her cowl tighter around her neck.

“Yes, it drinks from the toilet bowl, chews meat from the bone and sucks the marrow, humps your leg and licks its own ass.”

I looked in her eyes and she looked away.

“You don’t understand.”

“Sure I do, I have a dog.”

She tugged at the fetters and feathered her mount to a stop.

“Love, you don’t understand love.”

I held my hand out to her she let it lay in the air like a fish on a table.

“I understand metaphors, even weak ones made of tin.”

Her boot heel hit the ground and her mount heeled to.

“Love is a dog; loyal, the dog chooses you, follows you on faith. Instinctual, protective, the dog doesn't qualify why your chosen, why you go where you go, puts no condition on that you are his human; even when afraid the dog stands between you and harm. At the end of the day the dog cashews at your feet and even if you send him into the cold and the dark, he waits for you.”

A light rain falls, she hands the reins to the groom.

“You don’t understand, that same dog also drink from the toilet bowl, sucks marrow, licks ass and humps your leg. That’s instinctual as well. The question isn’t whether I’m worthy of the dog, it’s whether the dog is worthy of me.”

She pulled away and pushed her way into the stables.

I stood in the rain. I still don’t know how to convince anyone that neither love nor a dog is a question; they are both answers.