My paternal nana had a short-haired chihuahua named Taco. He was a yippy little thing, always hyped up and skittish. My dad was sitting at the table of her tiny kitchen with the chair turned sideways so he could stretch out his legs, crossing them at the ankles. My nana was fluttering about, probably making us something to eat, while I stood across the room watching the scene.

Taco was circling my dad and jumping around his feet. Out of nowhere, this dog backed up and, taking a running start, ran straight up my dad’s legs, up to his chest, and licked my dad full on the lips before leaping to his escape. It happened so fast and Taco was out of the room before my dad even had a chance to react. Sputtering, my dad wiped his mouth and cussed while I stood there and howled with laughter!

I wish I knew why that dog felt it was so important to steal that kiss but: Damn! What moxie!