The Sex
Pet Texts
My dog died when I was eighteen, during my first term at college. I was very upset, but found myself able to deal with it far better than I did when my rabbit died when I was six, or my guinea pig when I was twelve. I think the reason we get pets as a kid is to prepare us for the death of our grandparents (the one’s you like that is, everyone has at least one scary one who ought to be on some sort of register). The problem is that Mother Nature has been sidelined by steroids, valium and inactivity, meaning peoples grandparents often survive beyond their childhood and their potential deaths seem less emotionally tragic and more financially rewarding. People of course live longer than most household pets, unless your pet’s a tortoise or your kid is James Bulger (I know, I know, that’s wrong, I’m sorry; if your kid was James Bulger), and so the sense of loss is far greater.
<< Fascist guinea pigs; closer than they appear.
In terms of timescale, pets are rather like those ill-judged relationships that go on too long. One of my friends has just split up with his girlfriend of one and a half years. He’s fine, she isn’t, we never liked her; result. Of course the analysis rather falls down as with pets you love them, they die, they are no-more. With partners, you love them, you split up, they bounce around on your ex-best friends cock in a kind of mutual fuck off to you. At least pets have the decency not to be resurrected and run off with the guinea pig from next door, because he’s got a bigger water bottle and carrots for two, which you could never provide because you spent too long with that tart who’s fucking your friend to get down to Tesco’s and buy more fruit and veg. The ungrateful bugger would probably decide it would rather stay with your ex-girlfriend instead of you as well, why not, everyone else does. She’d probably rename him to something stupid, he’d perk up when you walked past one day to give the impression he’s having a great time now he’s with ‘her.’
They’ve gone into business together, sending mobile phone messages to kids whose parents won’t let them have a pet, so they feel closer to the animal they always wanted but daddy wouldn’t allow because he was too busy to look after it and mummy “doesn’t respond to my needs so why would she with a rabbit, if you want a pet go and stroke roadkill”, and are floating the company this autumn. All your friends are shareholders, as is next doors guinea pig, and they’re all set to make billions when ‘Pet’s Text’ becomes a plc. “We were going to cut you in” they’d say, “but we thought it’d be awkward, what with your ex-girlfriend and ex-guinea pig in charge, oh, and your parents re-mortgaged the house to start us off, thank them will you when you see them, especially since we won’t have the capital to pay them back until after it’s called in, so I guess we’ll see you on the streets. Nah, only kidding, I hear there are some really good hostels out there, you said you wouldn’t mind trying soddomy just the once didn’t you, just to find out? Well up your quota.
Anyway, we didn’t want to exclude you entirely so, well, since you don’t have a pet anymore, we’ve signed you up to ‘Pet Texts’ free for a week. But don’t worry, it’s only £20 a week after that, minimum period one year of course, oh, plus an extra £2.50 per text, an average of five per minute are sent, it varies, it’s only three per minute if he’s sleeping, we knew you’ll be just thrilled!” And so it is, until one day you’re found dead under a bridge surrounded by your own rolled shit and piss, surrounded by straw, trying to work out what exactly she sees in him.
This actually happened.
Other Sexlets:
Pet TextsHave It Your Way
Selected Praise for The Sex
May Day
Magnum Opus
Marshmallow
The Sex Online
by Will Barrett, Duncan Morgan and Jamie Cartwright.
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