I hear Fleegle’s nails scrambling on the kitchen tiles and poke my head in to see what’s going on. “Fleegle?”

“Busy,” he says, chasing his tail.

“I see that, but why?”

“I need to catch my tail.”

“Does your tail have fleas?”

He stops spinning to stare at me with a hurt look. “No, does yours?”

“I don’t have a tail.”

“Is that because the fleas carried it away?”

“Fleegle, why are you chasing your tail? Are you developing some sort of Labrador tail chasing neurosis?”

“I overheard a man at the dog park say that at work he felt like a dog chasing his tail. I was curious to know what his job was like. He must be tired when he gets home.” Fleegle wobbles on his feet. “Ooo, the kitchen is spinning.”

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