By Anne-Marie Oomen<\/strong><\/p>\n Gerald’s Talking Dog loves cherries. That’s all he talks about\u2026 Diva\u2019s shower opera echoed against wet enamel. She topped off with a rousing splash of maraschino m\u00e9lange body wash. Gerald’s taaaalking Dawwwwg loves cherries. That’s all he taaaaaalks\u2026 unadulterated free form. <\/em><\/p>\n <\/em>The man who had been her life, Big Ger Toymaker, didn\u2019t live with her anymore, but the stuffed dog that served as his surrogate did. Big Ger had implanted the dog: 10,000 new voice-coded comments on adult themes, beating the new Talking Barbie by 2000. <\/p>\n Diva shut off the shower, stepped into the bedroom, picked up her Stormcloud\u2019s cherry-flavored Belgian Rye, sipped slowly, strolled over to the toy dog abandoned on Big Ger\u2019s side of the bed, and offered him the lip\u2014she\u2019d been doing this for days. Did he seem to lick the neck of the bottle? She couldn\u2019t be sure. Then the talking dog said, \u201cYou are one good looking woman.\u201d<\/p>\n She looked at him with sardonic surprise. \u201cWho programmed you?\u2019<\/p>\n \u201cI am the king of storm. I am the lord of misrule. And you are one good-looking woman.\u201d <\/p>\n She rolled her eyes. Did he wink? Did he cock his head so the spotted ear turned up and the other floated down in rakish sloppiness. Why was he suddenly so\u2026responsive? A dog who talked as though he saw. No. Flirted as though he saw. Was he becoming the toy Big Ger had dreamed of? Nah.<\/p>\n Ignoring Big Ger\u2019s dog, she toweled off. He was a toy. Still. He stared at her. This had to stop. She asked the put-down question. \u201cSo Gerald\u2019s Talking Dog, how long will your battery last?\u201d That should do it.<\/p>\n He had been responding for two weeks, ever since she had asked Gerald to move out for his own good, insisting only that he leave the toy he was working on, which had caused his serious depression. Gerald\u2019s, not Talking Dog\u2019s\u2014because Ger had heard that Barbie\u2019s talking doll linked to the internet and pick up \u201ctrends\u201d in girls\u2019 conversations. Big Ger had wanted to make a talking dog for grown ups, but to respect their privacy, to let them play. Upstaged by Barbie, Gerald\u2019s Talking Dog prototype seemed a mistimed weak copy. And until today, Dog\u2019s exchanges had been uninspired. Canned. <\/p>\n Was he flirting with her, reminding her\u2026? Did Gerald\u2019s talking dog get it? Had it been the cherry beer? Had it been her shower song? <\/p>\n And Big Ger? Was not here. <\/p>\n Then Dog said, \u201cThe difference between men and toys is the size of their beers.\u201d <\/p>\n Better than Barbie. <\/p>\n She raised her eyebrows, hummed the chorus. He whined. She knew Ger could program innuendo, but this? Wildly unexpected. She punched her cell. He picked up his. Dog sucked her cherry beer. \u201cIt\u2019s working Ger, the damned talking dog is working.\u201d Dog gave a small bark, and rolled over, exposing his lovely belly.<\/p>\n
\nGerald. Gerald. Gerald’s Talking Dog loves cherries, all things sweet. That’s all…<\/p>\n