TICKE MY FANCY

Though laconic and somewhat inarticulate, Boudreaux revealed to me his story in bite-sized pieces, over several short trysts between our two houses. This was all under the watchful gaze of Pa, of course, who would be out smoking his pipe and clipping the shrubs to the low murmur of Perry Como or Bing Crosby. Ma was more encouraging. “Who’s your new boyfriend, Fancy?” she would tease in a tone that was as merry as a cricket’s, having spotted us in the shadows beside the house. Indeed, those first trysts were electric. So much so that my whispy white Maltese hair would hover above my head. But, as these things go, I have learned, electricity in love needs a source of energy, like a surfer needs the moon, as Pa would say, and without these, loses its charge. Fleeing the scheming and unkind streets of the Big Easy, Boudreaux would become accustomed to life at sea. It was a second chance, and the sea seemed to beckon with hope and a lulling whisper. Stray and hungry on the docks...

I first heard the bark when Ma and Pa brought me home to the house on 4th and Annunciation for the first time. It was a wheezy, tired bark, which made me pause at first. “That’s odd, I thought. He sounds quite old, but there’s something in that bark that is dreamy and worldly.” In fact, even today, the yard still carries traces of that dreaminess. I’ll hear his bark now and think little of it, but occasionally a cool breeze will waft a trace of it in through the back door or the cracks in the old cypress floor, and, without even thinking, I will leap up and cry to Pa and Ma to let me go out and meet that bark. Last time this happened Pa yelled at me as I leapt up. I was curled up around his head like a Russian fur hat, as he lay in bed reading a crime novel, and I hadn’t realized that I pranced across his face in such a frantic rush of barking that I pulled his earphones right out of his ears. “Ahhh, Fancy!” yelled Pa in a shrill voice, scrambling in a befuddled heap groping for h...

I guess I'm not the most social dog around, which is a glaring attribute in a culture that seems more and more inclined to group-think and that seems to fear solitude as much as the day of reckoning. When I was about 6 months old, Ma and Pa started bringing me to my favorite store, Petco, for these things called "play time." These particular play times were exclusively for us toy breeds, so each play time was a circus of small exotic breeds prancing and wrestling as if the stuffed animal section of FAO Schwartz had suddenly come alive. Our parents gathered around the cordon beaming with the confidence that their little dog was hands down the cutest of the pack. The thing about play time is it generally evolves into a cluster of small dogs nipping and pouncing on one another with a couple of us pattering about the periphery, appearing to be lost or searching for an escape. Pa had a hard time watching play time. I could hear him say things to Ma like, "Ahhhh, look...

Pa likes to smile and say, "If you only knew, " when people tell him how adorable I am. I know Pa loves me, but I guess he's right. I have a few bad habits that people blinded by my cuteness just don't see. I just give them a couple of winks of my brown sugar eyelashes, grin, and shift ever so slightly to let the sun glint off of my silky white Maltese coat, and they forget any scruples they might have had with life. They might as well have jumped inside of a Disney movie starring yours truly. I remember one time when Pa and I were walking in the Garden District, just across from the mid century modern furniture shop Pa always likes to look through the windows into. Pa and I had just rounded the corner from behind a squared hedge when we encountered an elegantly dressed older woman. I heard Pa say "shit" and he pulled on my leash as if to flee in the other direction. But it was too late. I say she was elegant, because she had this jacket with fur the sa...

Pa always jokes about how he sees more stars in New Orleans than he ever saw in Los Angeles. One time, Ma, Pa and I were walking along Magazine Street, enjoying the Spring evening air, buzzing with all kinds of smells--so many, in fact, that my nose was sore from all the sniffing that night. Fried seafood, a half eaten cupcake on the sidewalk, the sweet musk of incense wafting from somewhere in the Channel, a freshly laid cat poop, newly blooming flowers, some sweet perfume. God there were a lot of smells that night! My little nose was on overdrive. Pa compares it to a hovering moist blackberry. Pa loves me. Anyway, it was the perfume that was coming from the couple that approached us on our walk that I really noticed. It was so strong, something of a bygone era. Maybe White Diamonds by Liz Taylor. Just a guess (Ma's perfume is much nicer smelling). As the couple approached, I noticed the woman's eyes settle on mine. We all stopped as she said something to Ma and Pa, sipping in...

In the one year since I was adopted, I have noticed that there is one big difference between my ma and pa. Pa can't say no! Need to peepee in the backyard at 4am? Simple, just stand beside the bed and growl real low in that way that makes Pa chuckle and smile at how cute I am as he wipes the sleep from his eyes. Want to go out and sniff around by the neighbor's side of the house? No problem: low growl and bright big eyes aimed right at old pa. Works every time, even if it does take him a minute to find his rubber sandals in the dark of the early morning. I'm getting ready to work my magic on him in a minute so I can go play with my ball outside. I won't even look at Ma, cause she would just ignore me. There's no fooling Ma.

Woof! My name is Fancy. I'm half Maltese, half Chihuahua. I'm one, and I weigh almost ten pounds! My Pa calls me pom pom head because I have whispy fur as white as snow that hovers over my head like Einstein's hair. That's from my Maltese side. I love taking walks with Pa in our neighborhood, especially across Magazine street in the Garden District, where there are lots of dense shrubs to sniff. I have a friend up there that is a giant black Bernese Mountain Dog. He always says hi to me, and we rub noses through the old iron fence. One of my favorite things to do is play catch with Pa. When he gets tired I like to jump on top of him and try to stuff the ball into his hand, so he will keep throwing it. He always gives me this look then just smiles...When I want to nap, I curl up with Ma. Sometimes I curl into a crescent around her head on the pillow. Her hair keeps me warm and comforted, and she has a robe that I love to snuggle in. My favorite food is Sweet Potatoes and...