My Cool Black Boyfriend

I am crazy about this cool, laid-back dude I met. He's from Louisiana - came up north to live after Katrina. Everyone just calls him "Lou." He's so handsome, calm, strong, loving and loyal. He's always happy and excited to see me, and lets me know he doesn't like it when I leave; in fact, sometimes he physically tries to keep me from leaving him. But I know he only means well.

I think my husband, John, might be getting a bit suspicious of me and Lou. Like the other day, John walked in and found me in my bathrobe embracing Lou, my fingers entangled in his thick, black chest hair. Then again, John knows all too well that Lou's not mine and never will be.

That doesn't stop me from loving Lou, from kissing and stroking him and telling him he's absolutely wonderful. John is just having to get used to seeing Lou's head in my lap.

Here's a picture of my cool black boyfriend.



Yes, Lou is a dog - a pure bred black lab. He belongs to our general contractor and comes to work with his owner every day working on our cottage addition. Lou was homeless after Hurricane Katrina and our contractor took him in as a rescue dog.
Lou loves his life on Mudge Island with his "Alpha Dog" (our contractor is definitely the boss of Lou, and is a great dog owner/dog trainer).

I've never spent any time around dogs (grew up with cats, which I love) so I wasn't expecting to be so won over by Lou. It kind of snuck up on me. But it's hard not to fall in love with someone who capers with delight on the dock he's so excited to see you when you arrive on a Friday night. I'll be flopped on the couch watching TV and Lou will lie on the floor right next to the couch, all stretched out in a way that gives me easy access to rub his belly - for the entire time I'm watching TV! Lou just loves "rubs", as his owner calls it. When he sees me head to the car with my suitcase, he tries to "herd" me away from the vehicle and back to the cottage.

One day, I got up from the couch to go outside but Lou blockaded the door and wouldn't let me out - he hadn't had his fill of "rubs" and he was letting me know he wasn't done with me! A game ensued of him playfully chasing me around the couch - with me trying to get to the door and Lou preventing me. I swear he was smiling! When I finally got outside, I said to the guys "Oh no, I think I'm Lou's bitch!"

His owner gave me a few tips for establishing appropriate dominance over the dog, but I am still pretty low on the dog status pecking order. Lou knows he owns me! But I'm okay with it. I know my place - provide Milkbones, fresh water, rubs and adoration - check. And Lou's job is to just keep being excited to see me!