As I bathe… They watch me. I continue, un-phased. I lick with well placed licks. Impressing even myself as I take care of each square inch. I bend, contorting my chubby body to meet up with my scrub-brush tongue. Reaching all areas. Left, right, near, far and underneath. Only I can do this for myself. In this moment I am clean as can be in the areas calling to me. The urge to attend to my “dirty”, an itch that needs licking. Dust, dirt, dried food all just a distant memory, a lingering flavor on my rough tongue. Methodically surveying my furry acreage. Yes, I look amazingly divine. But don’t I always?
Oh, wait, hold up! this nasty-dirty leg needs a tongue-lashing. I assume the outstretched furry drumstick position to connect my rake of a tongue with this problem limb. Trouble is, suspended mid-air, this fucker bounces every time I take a lick. If I could only disown this appendage, this ungrateful thing. Failing here.
Ever try to wash a car as it drives by you? Now ya feel me. Annoying huh?. Annoying, kinda like the folks watching me rn. How the hell is this productive? Biting, nibbling, juicing the area up to smooth it out all over again. Inch by inch. Under the watchful eyes of those who could use a bath themselves. Judgy bastards.
Then, never fails. These hoomans cannot help themselves and HAVE to touch me, HAVE to come along and “love me up” covering me with kisses and squeezing me in hugs. Ugh, I have to start all over again. Weren’t they just watching? Seriously? I’m clean now…. Now is not the time to show your honoring of my fabulousness!!!! They’re disgusting filthy animals.
So the cycle continues. I bathe, they watch me. They dirty me with love. FML
A Fish Named Karen 