“What’s that you got in your crate?” I ask Fleegle, pointing at something small and black inside it.
His tail wags. “Well, Raud, that’s one of your remotes. I think it’s to the television.”
I look at him suspiciously. “What’s it doing in there?”
He sits, his tail now sweeping the floor behind him. “Think of it as me tossing a cookie in there for you.”
“Ha ha, very funny.” I get down on all fours and crawl in to retrieve the remote, still wet with dog slobber, but thankfully not yet chewed on. The crate door bangs against my feet. “What are you doing out there?”
“I’m giving my crate to you and you’re moving in. Now that it’s yours, do you want a stuffed Kong to chew on while I’m out carousing the neighborhood with my friends?”