he licks himself

he licks himself so noisily that is sometimes disgusts them, but then he is a dog and they love him... technically, he is her dog as she raised him from a puppy for the last almost fifteen years and he has been around for just the last six or seven or eight or, but then, who's counting... they have been together forever somehow, family bonds through like needs, through not wanting to be alone, through symbiosis, no matter how imbalanced... he gets something he does not want to live without, at least not anymore... and she gets something she needs, some semblance of security and stability, two plateaus she has yet to reach on her own in spite of being some distance from childhood... but then, we are all children on some levels, some just more exposed and needy than others... she likes herself too, but then. she is a cat... not quite as only, and also more hers than his, but far from kitten-hood... they sit below a drawing of winnie the pooh and eeyore under butterflies and a runaway balloon in the shape of a heart and words that say, so simply, bear your heart... and he does, for he has long since learned that fear is no obstacle to truth... and she does not, for she has not learned to overcome fear... so he waits, kind of like the dog... and she waits, kind of like the cat... even if they are doing the same thing, they are very different... if only they knew...