Human doesn’t look at me the same way when I hump his leg

Midwestern good boy dog Rufus – his name changed to protect his identity – thinks the magic is over with his human. This is an exerpt of a conversation between two dogs.

Chomps Barksley II: When did you first worry that something was amiss?

Rufus: It was the end my work day, having barked at all the squirrels and rubbed this nasty sap thing I found all over myself. That used to get him all hot and bothered.

Chomps: Of course. And this time?

Rufus: Only bothered. It was like he was doing a gross chore when he had to get in the tub with me and remove the layers of sticky grass and mud and sap.

Chomps: And when you were finally “clean”, as the people say, what happened then?

Rufus: Nothing. He was looking at some bright metal and it was making some noises. He also seemed to have some kind of penis injury, as he was tending to it.

Chomps: Those seem to be consistently injured.

Rufus: That evening, after the lifeless meal he served me, I snuck up behind him as he ate a muffin in the kitchen. Then I proceeded to hump his leg in that special way.

Chomps: Did that get him going?

Rufus: He just… said… Get off me.

Chomps: You sure it wasn’t, “Get off on me!”?

Rufus: I knew the difference when I looked into his tired, distant eyes.

Chomps: So, how do you rekindle the relationship then?

Rufus: I figure I’ll rip open some small animal and leave it on his pillow.

Chomps: You are a hopeless romantic. Go get him, tiger.