Sept. 10, 1997
The problem with girlfriends is that they're not chihuahuas. Women, I have decided, simply aren't very good at communicating.
Over the years, I've come to recognize the signals my chihuahuas, Rusty and Smedley, send me when they want something. Dealing with humans is tough.
For example, when the mutts grab my leashes and anxiously deposit them by the front door, I know that it's time for my afternoon walk. It's pretty straightforward and simple.
Peg, on the other hand, is much more oblique about it when she thinks I need exercise: "Dave, you're putting on a little weight, aren't you? Have you thought any more about starting to work out again? I don't know if I can let those pants out."
When Rusty or Smedley crave affection and attention, they'll sit beside my chair and whine until I pick them up and give them a good scratching. It's a signal I recognize.
Peg adamantly refuses to sit beside my chair and whine, and gets all upset when I scratch behind her ears or roll her over on her back to scratch her belly. What's the deal?
It's the same thing with other signals.
When Smedley wants to play, he'll grab one of my cast-off socks and start tossing it about. I know it's time for a little rough-housing. I get him on his back on the floor and tickle him while he snarls and wags his tail furiously.
Peg, meanwhile, sneaks up, throws her arms around me and starts nibbling on my ear. Sensing she wants to play, I pick her up, drop her to the floor and start tickling her. She kicks me into unconsciousness.
See what I mean? The signals are all so confusing.
Rusty and Smedley, when they want to show affection, lick my face like it's basted in a thick beef broth. It's sometimes a competition to see which one can lave the whole face first.
When Peg wants some affection, she'll run up and throw her arms around my neck. Unfortaunetly, she gets righteously upset when I start licking her face, especially if we're in the grocery store or something.
There are other differences as well.
The mutts, for example, don't really much care that what I'm feeding them is something which sat in the refrigerator for a couple of days, and they'll eat it whether the food dish has been freshly washed or not.
With Peg around, our eating habits have taken a rather drastic turn. Not only does she refuse to eat out of a food dish, she insists the plates and forks and such be clean!
As if dealing with humans wasn't hard enough, there's also the fact that Peg's a computer tech, and sometimes lapses into a language even more foreign than English.
Rusty and Smedley have been begging forever, for example, for me to get them some girlfriends. They let me know how they feel by "marking" things, like the couch.
Now, Peg's already reached the "girlfriend" definition, but it's often hard to figure out what message she's trying to send. For example, the other day I found her on the Internet, accessing a site titled "Upgrading Girlfriend 6.2 to Wife 1.0."
I wonder what she's trying to say?