Whom Should I Call? Dr. Harry or Dr. Freud?

You know how they say that as soon as you get a boyfriend or girlfriend, you instantly become more desirable to others? Even those who wouldn't have had a bar of you when you were available? When I was recently single, I was a veritable leper. All the bright young things preferred to keep their distance, regarding me with haughty disdain or malign indifference. But since removing myself from the market I've become keenly aware of the aforementioned phenomenon. And this unwanted attention has become more pronounced since I have been housesitting for my boss (he’s presently cavorting about with his ex-wife in Europe). Unfortunately, I haven’t been getting vibed out by the pool boy, the maid, the gardener, or indeed any other homo sapien. Instead this obsessive lust has been emanating from the household dog, Nigel*.

Before he met my boyfriend, Nigel was vaguely offhand with me; friendly without being enthusiastic and really only excited to see me if I was holding a leash (for the purposes of walking him, not the purposes of sex-play). But when he discovered that he couldn’t have me, he started behaving very strangely indeed...

For instance, he began humping my leg very passionately at every available opportunity. This behaviour got more and more intense (and more vigorous, I might add) until finally one day my boyfriend tried to give me a hug and found that a very eager Nigel was mounting him from behind. Thankfully, this attempted (and rebuffed!) threesome seemed to represent the climax (so to speak) of this behaviour and it has subsided. In fact, he's been quite discreet, waiting patiently outside my bedroom all night until the opportunity of a door left ajar allows him to leap, mouth foaming and tongue dripping, onto my bedsheets. (I now have to wear pajamas to bed as a kind of protection.)

Nigel is also a snowdropper of the worst kind. He once stole a pair of my worn underpants and turned them into a mid-afternoon snack. I actually walked in on him in the lounge room with his muzzle firmly pressed to the gusset, licking away, like it was the last supper. Needless to say, I have since made sure that the lid of the laundry hamper is firmly shut to prevent further molestation of my undergarments. This doesn't prevent him from attempting to extract my knickers from my person. He quite frequently creeps under the computer desk while I'm working and will then, in a surprise attack of the most shocking kind, try to stick his head between my legs.

He will also, creepily enough, fish a used condom out of the bin, if he gets half a chance. He will then proceed to chew on it, like a bacon flavoured Schmacko, all the while waggling his little tail. The other day I had to chase him around the garden for a good 10 minutes in an attempt to wrestle one out of his mouth. I’m not sure exactly what it is about condoms that he finds so appealing. Is it the taste? The texture? Either way, I can confirm that Nigel likes to swallow. (And he’s single, fellas!)

Too much information? Possibly. But I think you can now properly grasp the extent of the violation that has taken place. It’s strange because, apart from these perversions, Nigel is a very pleasant pooch.

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* - The name of the spoodle in question has been changed to protect his privacy.

As you can see from the sleazy wink this pup is giving, dogs like to make love to the camera (and my leg) when I'm around.