Matt hit the nail on the head the other night when he told me that he’s like a cat, while I’m like a dog.

He was talking about physical affection. Like a cat, Matt is very protective of his personal space; like a dog, I’m all Mister Cuddly and Snuggly and Kissy. Dogs paw all over you and give you wet sloppies; cats raise their hackles and tense up when you try to pet them.

It’s better than it used to be, though. Over the 16 months that Matt and I have been dating, I’ve broken down his defenses somewhat. Before me, he’d never really been big on cuddling and snuggling, but now he is. I think I’ve taught him to be more physical. Still, certain parts of his body are very ticklish, although only sometimes. When I touch him in certain places – his stomach, his legs, and, uh, elsewhere — I can never tell if I’m going to send him into spasms of laughter and flinching or not. And sometimes when I try to put my finger in his mouth (don’t ask), he clams up like a little boy who doesn’t want to eat his vegetables. (It’s actually kind of cute.)

So I’m a dog and he’s a cat. But lttle by little, I’m bring out his latent canine tendencies. Someday he’ll be drooling all over me, fetching newspapers and eating Science Diet.

Woof.