I’m woken in the morning by Fleegle pulling the lower half of the covers off the bed and licking my feet.

“Hey, stop that.” I squirm to get me feet away from him, but he’s like white on rice, following my feet wherever I move them. “That tickles.”

“I’m cleaning them for you.”

“Huh?” I sit up, fully awake now, and look down at my feet. They’re covered in dark brown mud. I don’t remember going for a walk in the backyard last night in my bare feet, and that’s something I’d remember. Besides, the mud back there isn’t nearly as dark as what’s on my feet, and as one who lives with a dog, I’ve learned it’s best to keep my feet covered.

Maybe one of the neighbors has mud that dark. “Fleegle, did I sleep walk out the front door last night?”

“Nope, you hardly moved at all.”

“Then how’d I get mud all over my feet?”

“It’s not mud, Raud. It’s chocolate.”

“Nonsense.”

“It taste really good.” He goes for my feet again, his tongue leading the way as it flaps about.

“That explains your persistence.” I swing my feet off the bed. “And more reason for you to knock it off. Chocolate is bad for dogs.”

“Not this chocolate.” He jumps off the bed and circles back toward my feet. “This chocolate is different.”

Last night’s dream begins to filter into my consciousness. I vaguely remember sitting on a large rock of chocolate in Fleegle World. “Is this chocolate from… Is that even possible?”

“Oh yeah, why do you think I clean my feet every morning first thing when I wake up?”

“I thought it was because you had yeasty paws again and it was time to spray them with apple cider vinegar solution.”

“Vinegar and chocolate? Haven’t had it. Is it any good?”

 

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