Fatale Abstraction

Here's what a sap I am:

When I was a little kid, we had these pictures on the wall with a puppy and a kitten in litter-strewn alleys on cold dark nights with big, impossibly round and sad moist eyes.

Sometimes I'd lay awake and cry about those poor little fellers.

So, anyhoo, I'm older and wiser now and it's been many years since I've known what a silly inclination that was and and since I've been able to laugh at how preposterously gullible I was.

Er.

Am.

Now Chuy looks at me like that sad puppy. Is it the wrinkles? Is it the moist cow-eyes he makes, the whites visible at the edges, plaintively panting his bad breath in my direction? I'm such a sucker.