While standing around at the dog park, a little black Chihuahua named Toro runs over to me and lifts his leg to pee on my pant leg. He’s too fast and I’m too slow and he gets me, then before I can shake my pant leg off Fleegle is at my side lifting his leg on me.
“Hey, what the @#$%&! Fleegle.”
“But Toro peed on you.”
“Yeah, so now it’s okay for you to pee on me too?” I shake my head, always trying to add a physical gesture to the words for him, kind of like saying it in two languages. “I don’t think so.”
“But everyone will think you belong to Toro.” He makes a move to lift his leg on me again. “You belong to me.”
I dodge his approach. “Then think of me as your bed. You don’t pee on your bed, do you?”
“I would if Toro peed on it. Stop moving, you need to be marked.”
“I’ve already been marked and once is enough.”
Fleegle pauses, looking up at me all doe-eyed. “Does that mean you’re going home with Toro?”
“Yes, and I’m leaving you here to live in the park.”
Next Negotiating with Cookies: Fleegle Leads Satsang
Previous Negotiating with Cookies: Let’s Play Catch
Gnawing the Bone 
Xander would do that — he’d wait for Riley to do her business first, then he would go on top of it.
LikeLiked by 1 person
There’s a group of three dogs that I walk, all males, and every time one of them pees the other two literally line up to pee where the first one did. Then the first one has to double back and pee on their pee. I feel like I’m leading a pee parade.
LikeLiked by 1 person