Lometa's Perfect Puppy

Lometa's perfect puppy would be brave. He would single-handedly take on houseflies, strangers, and any scraps of paper that happened to be lying around. He would insist on going in and out through his favorite door, a hundred times a day. He would be constantly monitoring the perimeter and reporting back. All new furniture would be suspect until he had a long nap on it.

Lometa's perfect puppy would be 'wicked smaht.' He would roll over, shake hands, pay the taxes, and massage Lometa's feet every night before she fell asleep. He would squirm underneath one of Lometa's arms and lick her face when he knew she had had a bad day. Before any major decision was made, he would insist on voicing his opinion.

Lometa's perfect puppy would love to have his tummy scratched.

Lometa's perfect puppy would have short, pointed ears and a long tail. When he slept, the tip of his tongue would hang out of his mouth, and his paws would twitch as he dreamed. He would make gentle, sighing noises when he was happy. He would beg shamelessly for a treat, but would be hurt if he thought he was being laughed at. He would be a warm shape on the foot of the bed at night.

Lometa's perfect puppy would always be overwhelmingly, wildly delighted to see her.

Lometa's perfect puppy would be affectionate. He would insist on jumping into laps long after the 'puppy stage' was over, particularly those of unwanted but persistent guests. He would curl up at the foot of Lometa's bed every night, and sigh almost inaudibly before falling asleep. He would sulk if left alone all day, but forgive... or forget... everything after a few minutes.

Lometa's perfect puppy would spend hours doing something completely pointless, because even perfect puppies should have a vice.

Lometa's perfect puppy would, in fact, be a cat.