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The screen door creaks obnoxiously as you shove it open and step down onto your back porch. You barely have the time to let it shut behind you before a blond man comes barreling towards you on all fours. Ken all but tackles you in his excitement.
“Easy, Ken, easy,” you admonish.
He settles at your feet, chastised, faux mink coat spilling around him. His glittery blue collar is in sharp contrast to the gray fur. His tag jingles against the clip at the end of his tether. It’s a necessary precaution to keep him from wandering too far. Despite all his protests otherwise, you know he would be liable to set out on a three hour walk to some unknown location and take another three hours to return only with some misguided ideals in his head.
You run a gentle hand through his hair. He leans up into your touch, clearly enjoying the sensation of your nails against his scalp. He would gladly be petted all day if possible.
“I brought you something,” you say with a smile.
You give the bag of expensive pecans that you’re holding in your hand a shake, drawing the blond’s attention to it. After careful research, making sure to do a deep dive on each company, you were sure you had found the best pecans to give your hungry boy as a treat. He was so fond of dried fruit and glazed nuts that you would be shocked if he didn’t like the Sahale Snacks® pecans in the ‘Valdosta’ variety.
Ken puts his hands on your legs, forgetting himself in his delight. He’s almost panting in his eagerness for the treat in your grasp. You can’t allow bad behavior so you step back, dislodging his hold. “Off, Ken. You know better.”
He immediately pulls his hands away. He rests them against the outdoor rug, digging his fingers into short fibers in the effort to contain himself. A wide smile spreads across his face when you praise him for obeying. He loves nothing more than to make you happy. He can’t help the wiggle his body does in excitement as you open the bag and stick your hand in to grab a small handful of the mix. The crinkling noise has his rapt attention. The glaze is sticky on your fingers.
You withdraw your hand and offer him his good boy treat. He props himself on his knees and makes eye contact, he waits patiently for your permission. You give him an encouraging nod. He presses his mouth into your cupped hand and eats the pecans. His lips are soft against your palm and there’s a whiskery hint of his stubble. You feel the wet brush of his tongue as he seeks out every crumb.
He pulls back, a thoughtful look in his usually vacant, blue eyes. “Is it me or do these pecans just get dreamier and dreamier?” he asks, his tone a little congested with emotion.
“That’s because they’re Sahale Snacks® pecans. They’re a nicer brand than you’ve been getting.”
He looks stunned that you upgraded him from the Great Value™ Dried Cranberries & Candied Pecans to this new brand. From a salad topper to an actual glazed nut mix? It’s like you had just given him the world, like you respected him in a way that was beyond ordinary®.
You offer him another small handful and he all but lunges for them. The kneeling man finds a cranberry amongst the nuts and lets out a pleased groan. He vacuums up every morsel. You giggle a little at the way his eager snuffling against your skin tickles. He looks at the bag in your other hand and his eyes inexplicably start to well up with tears. Before you can reach out to give him a soothing pet, he bursts into hysterical sobs.
"Don't look at me!" He's crying. He's actually crying over the pecans.
"That good, huh?" You ask gently.
He nods, sniffling pathetically as he swallows. “They’re sublime.”
You take a seat on the patio and set the bag aside. You give your leg a coaxing pat and suddenly, Ken’s on your lap like an overzealous dog. You take it in stride.
“You’re a good boy, Ken.”
He whines at the praise. You follow up your approval with a scritch under his jaw. He squirms delightedly, almost getting tangled in his tether. He rolls over for a belly scratch and you oblige him. You almost think his foot is going to start kicking, he’s that into it. You let him lay across your legs for a while, letting him enjoy the aftertaste of the glazed mix and your affectionate petting. All things must come to and end though, and before long you’re encouraging the man off of you. He scrambles to his hands and knees and gives you a betrayed look that’s not eased by a smoothed over his head. His coat is slipping down, revealing a bare shoulder. You grasp the material and straighten it before getting ready to go back in the house.
“I’ll see you later. Be good. I know you pecan.”