Poor Iggy has sex on the brain. Lilu doesn't get it; his constant sniffing at her nether regions; the distracted, nostril-flared dazed look on his face; the neck pinning and pelvic thrusts.
She visits me, I think for assurances, more often than she did.
I don't know if Iggy gets what's going on either.
Some months ago, we set Iggy's appointment with the vet for the snipping, except it's not snipping anymore - its laser surgery, for the last weekend of May.
I don't know if we're going to make it.
Monday, May 18, 2009
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