• Lawyers get into a heated debate about animal-on-animal action deemed rape
Diary,
It pains me that I had to leave my patients and attend a meeting with Janell’s lawyer. To bring you up to date, Janell is the flamboyant owner of a pocket poodle named Coco, who had a short tryst with my German Shepherd Puppy at the vet’s. Janell intended to sue my dog for rape.
“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” said my lawyer.
“Chapter Five part two of Kenya’s constitution,” Janell’s lawyer retaliated.
“Prevention of cruelty to animals? There’s nothing in Chapter Five about natural animal-on-animal action. The dogs had sex. Big deal.”
Yet, for close to an hour, the lawyers went at it, then went to lunch as a group. I invited Janell for lunch and she accepted, saying she had nothing better to do.
We spent a very informative hour together, in which I learned that she is has a university degree in economics and is an extremely savvy social media influencer.
“Coco isn’t just a prop I carry around in a bag,” she said, “she’s part of my personality, my business. Coco racks up 200,000 views in the first hour of a pic on Instagram.”
“I understand what it might mean losing her for a while if she gets pregnant, but what if you don’t have to lose her.”
“Excuse me? Who wants to see pics of a fat pregnant dog?”
“People interested in Coco’s journey as a mother. Think about it.”
Janell makes a call, relays my proposal and a smile comes to her face, lighting up the room.
“Whom did you call?” I ask.
“My manager. He loves the angle.”
“You have a manager and everything, huh?”
“Also, an accountant, a chef and a separate set of aides for Coco.”
“Shoot. No wonder Puppy wanted in on some of that action.”
The horn dog I am converted the lunch meet to a date and we ended up at my place, imagining my guest as her homophone Coco Chanel. Puppy and Coco did a little sniffing and sleeping, Janell and I did a lot of drinking and love making.
At two in the morning came loud angry knocks on the door. I opened it and a black Shrek spilled into the living room.
“Janell,” he barked, “why do you keep doing this? Been waiting for you at home all night.”
“Who’s he?” I asked.
“My manager,” Janell said.
“He sure is acting like more than a manager.”
“He’s also my husband. We’re in an open relationship.”
“This isn’t right. It ruins the fantasy.”
“Why?”
“Coco Janell never had a bloody husband, and he would definitely not have been an ogre.”
The husband’s hand moved; I felt a bus ram into my face. When I came to, they were long gone.