Afterwards, while my grad school girlfriend and I are lying together, discussing quietly how we'll each spend our days, the dog whines nearby. Then, all of a sudden, she's on the bed, towering over us triumphantly. Her eyes screw around psychotically and she bolts away. And just as we begin to postpone breakfast for another half hour, there's Violet again, back on the bed and standing over us impatiently. For any animal motivated by species preservation, not individual desire, the notion of matins extravagance is ill-advised.
Human sex is too complicated and dangerous for most animals.
But this omission is also rather curious. As with humans, we expect to receive physical and emotional pleasure from our relationships with animals. We keep pets because we like how they feel, and we like how our bodies interact with theirs. A good cat is one that'll curl in your lap when you read, purr when you scratch it, know when play is play, knead you with it claws in and lick you once in a while. And Violet still climbs on the sheets, puts her paws on us, sticks her snout in our faces and collapses long beside our tangled bodies.