[ blind as a bat ]
by kHo

Sighing heavily he finally sat up, shaking the sleep from his head and ruffling his already mussed hair even more. Frowning to himself he let his gaze wander over his mess of a cabin. His eyes settled on Chico, who sat in the corner.

“So I´m a slob, huh,” he asked, one seemingly perfectly manicured eyebrow pitching up. “Don´t see *you* cleaning up, do I?”

Leaning over with a grunt he picked up his glasses, putting them on the bridge of his nose and not bothering to push them into their proper place. He spied a stray Doritos and picked it up, popping it into his mouth. It was stale, and a little soggy, but he continued to chew and shrugged haphazardly at the mangy mutt on the other side of the room.

“Ya know,” he grunted, standing up and stretching, feeling like an old man as his bones cracked into place. “For someone who really doesn´t do his fair share of the work around here, you sure do judge a lot.”

He picked up a day old glass and padded slowly into the kitchen, his slippers making tap-tapping sounds on the floor and his robe dragging behind him. “You sit over there, with your mangy shit-caked salt-n-pepper fur shedding all over my furniture, and you look at me with those eyes of yours, and you judge.”

He made a half assed attempt and washing out the glass and filled it again with water. Turning and walking back into the living room, he glared at the dog gazing at him. “Don´t deny it, I can read you, Chico. I know what goes on in that puny, pea-sized brain of yours.”

He spotted the turned over bag of half-crushed Doritos and snatched it up, grabbing a handful and shoveling them into his mouth. They weren´t soggy, though they were still stale. He nodded as he chewed, pointing at Chico. “Ya know somethin´ though? I might be a slob, and I might not wear anything but this tattered old rug I hesitantly call a robe, but at least I don´t run into shit when I walk.”

He nodded again, extending another finger towards the mutt. “That´s right, you heard me, you blind as a fuckin´ bat mutt. Glaucoma my ass… you´re just blind. Lick your balls too much, that´s what it is. Least I don´t do that.”

He frowned, considering his words for a moment. Laying back on the couch he kicked his feet up on the table, reaching into the bag for another handful of chips. “I guess I would have to admit that if I could, I might,” he said begrudgingly. “Seeing as how I haven´t gotten any pussy in quite the while.”

He frowned, looking over at Chico suspiciously. “That doesn´t mean I´m gay, ya know. Just because a man considers licking his own balls, if he could, doesn´t mean he´s gay. And also, just because I don´t hit on any woman with a pulse, that doesn´t make me gay either. I´m not gay.” He nodded to himself, shoving the chips into his mouth and chewing loudly. “Nope… not gay at all. Just lonely.”

“Oh, Chico,” he said, sighing and resting the bag of chips on his stomach. “It´s a good thing I have you. Can´t be completely lonely with you around, can I?” He smiled and laughed lightly as Chico´s ears perked up. “That´s right, Chico-bear, I love ya.”

He leaned up, letting his feet fall from the table as he clapped his hands together lightly. “C´mere Chico… come see Mort. Come to Pappa.” He frowned when Chico´s head raised but the dog didn´t make a move to come closer. “Come on, Chico… come here.”

He frowned, sighing. “Chico,” he tried again, raising his voice so that he was almost yelling. He sighed again as the dog laid his head back down. “Was it the blind comment? I hurt your feelings, didn´t I? I didn´t mean it ya know… I´m just grumpy cause I just woke up.”

He sat up and slid to the floor, crossing his legs and patting on his knees. “Come on, Chico… I´ll give you a back rub.” He frowned, looking pleadingly at the dog gazing lazily at him from his recliner. “Please, Chico?”

Finally the dog raised his head and stood up. He looked at Mort for a moment and then slowly edged his way to the end of the recliner, jumping down when he reached it. He hit his head on the table on the way over, but he reached Mort´s lap in a matter of seconds.

“Poor Chico,” Mort cooed, scratching the dog behind his ears and smiling as he lay down with his head propped on his leg. “Blind as a fuckin´ bat, and I still love ya. How´s that for soul-mates?”

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