The Lamont Diaries continued
June 26
My pal, Lamont, is a shameless attention seeking harlot. He makes no distinction on what gender he targets in his insatiable quest soliciting affection. For that matter he makes no distinction what species he targets.
And monogamous he is not. It is just the pursuit of one conquest after another. But no one seems to object. It isn't as if he loves 'em and leaves them. He just, well, collects them.
And, as his defacto agent, butler, and manager, the queue is becoming hard to manage.
I don't know what to attribute his indiscriminate, unquenchable, bordering-on-slutty, love life to.
It is correct his youth has been marked by the absence of a strong father figure. Then again, he has been equally denied the presence of a nurturing mother figure.
And, being abandoned to a trash dump in Mexico only weeks ago, he has a claim to being rejected in toto enough to give pause to anyone's self esteem. But Lamont doesn't seem to have been scarred one bit. He certainly doesn't see himself as a victim.
He has no chip on his shoulder, and rarely exhibits any woe-is-me attitude (save when, for instance, being chastised for eating the food off my dinner plate whenever I turn my back, or repeatedly being yelled at for destroying my shoes. But I suspect the droopy, sad puppy dog watery eyes look is a calculated act. Lamont is, also, no dummy).
In fact, Lamont seems to just brush off the negative and leap forward wiggling and wagging and smooching his way onto the next adventure, the next friend, the next smooch partner, the next playmate.
For Lamont, the highlight of his day is our several trips to the park where there is always someone new to sate his nearly unquenchable libido in his unceasing quest to bestow on someone, or more accurately on something, his remarkable appetite for gracing his warmth and smiles and smooches upon.
Lamont effortlessly exhibiting his natural charm
Today, we met Buster, Alexis, Buddy, Diamond Jim, Bowser, Princess, and then I lost track of the names of the seemingly endless line waiting their turn to bask in Lamont's glow and irresistible charm.
He smooched and rumbled and chased and got smooshed and got back up and did it all over again with all of them.
When one got a bit snooty, he just ignored them and moved on to his next new pal.
And he never failed to do the right thing and go over and introduce himself to their owners.
One little puffy ankle biter, dyed in gaudy pink hair colour like a neon sign outside a canine strip joint, wandered by with her human, who was wearing alarmingly tight pink pants and shirt.
Lamont gave the pair a once over and ignored them. The boy isn't short of good taste either.
All the dogs and their humans swooned over Lamont. I have been paying attention to Guru Lamont and fully plan to adopt his cross species strategy on maximizing the fun factor that, if Lamont is correct, awaits us all if we just seize the opportunity. ■