She hummed Baby Got Back as she lifted me out of the ground. Before then, I was just a kid, hanging with a bunch of others in the nursery, getting fat on moisture and micronutrients.
And then the dog. Romulus, like he was some ancient god, when in fact he was a slobbering mess. How they trained him not to eat me was something I didn’t want to think about. Maybe they hurt him. I like to imagine some sort of positive reinforcement, like don’t eat this nasty dirty thing in the ground, and you’ll get a nice thick steak. I do know, however, that the drooly hound loved nothing more than nasty dirty things in the ground. That’s why he had the digging instinct. Steak was too easy. He wanted the thrill of the hunt, and ideally, the chase. I tried to run like a fox but of course there was nothing like that for me.
Rom nosed me with a not unpleasant thump. He stuck his tongue out just a millimeter to confirm what his astounding nose had already told him. I was ready. Full of the scent of joy and promise. He whipped his tongue back in, eager to avoid accusations of licking or tasting, which, while less of an offence than eating, was a no-go on the steak.
She picked me up and held me up to the later afternoon sun like I was a goddess. Others gathered around, dogs and humans alike, to admire me in her glove shining like a jewel.
It was a whole day until she sliced my heart open and I started to love her a little less.
It was a week until she sold me for enough to buy herself a new car. I hope she enjoyed tooling around in the car, I did. I see the wind in her hair and a smile on her face. She’s remembering how I tasted.
