Come Dance With Me

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‘Cause what is dancing, but
Making love set to music, playin’

“Let’s go salsa dancing,” I said to my human as we were coming out of that Mexican restaurant she so enjoys.

“I don’t think so,” she says, not even taking my idea into consideration.

More than a little disappointed, I replied, “That’s exactly what my Beloved would have said.”

He never would take me out dancing. If I wanted to go trip the light fantastic all I had to do was ring up Roger. Sometimes it’s great fun to get all dolled up in a twirly dress and silver strappy sandals and just go out and shake your groove thing.

Roger was a wonderful dancer, almost as graceful on the dance floor as in the wrestling ring. In fact, he was the one who taught me many a dance step, both vertical and horizontal.

To quote Sinatra, “Cause what is dancing, but making love set to music, playing.” I can still here Roger purring those words in my ear while cheek to cheek we’d be.

I didn’t like it much at first, the dancing part, not the making love. That I adored from the moment he first bedded me.

As far as the dancing goes, I was a tall and gawky teenager, not at all comfortable in my own skin. All that would change when Roger danced with me.

Roger woud say, “Just relax, love, and follow my lead.”

Pretty soon I’d be melting in his arms as we twirled around the dance floor.

Must have been the endorphines. Or maybe the champagne. All I know is it made me feel really good.

“Go on and dance with Roger if you want,” my human urged.

“No,” I insisted, “I can’t leave you when you’re all mopey like this.”

My poor human is so very worn to a frazzle right now. I can not wait to get her to our new home. This place is just soaked with negative energy.

“It’s going to get better,” I promise her.

I know it will…

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