I’m standing around waiting for the elevator to show up on the first floor. Standing there with me is this guy wearing track pants and a winter coat. He has a dog with him, one of those little toy dog terrier types, on a leash. He’s brushing the slack of the leash across the dog’s head. I’m looking at the lit call button next to the elevator door.
“Watch this,” says the guy. I look over. “Watch this, he hates this.” He takes the slack of the leash and rests it on the dog’s ass. The dog scampers away, clearly as upset as a cuddly cute dog can get. “He hates having his ass touched.” The guy does it a couple more times. “Look at him, he’s walking sideways he hates it so much.”
I smile politely. I’ve never been a dog person since I’m allergic to them but I also typically don’t get off watching people pat their pet’s ass either.
The elevator arrives and we three get on: the track pants guy, me and the dog. The door closes and we stand together in early morning silence. The guy and I look at the dog, who pants and waves his tail. A couple of moments go by where we don’t say anything.
“You know, people really seem to love these things,” says the guy.
“Well, he is very cute,” I offer.
Guy nods. “It’s not just that, though. I mean, you see them maybe ten times a day and ten times a day they’re happy to see you.”
I nod back as we reach his floor.
“Unlike pussy,” he says as he and the dog leave the elevator. “Have a good one.”