I’m in the kitchen cleaning the lazy man’s grill when Fleegle comes in from the patio with something muddy in his mouth. “What have you got there?” I ask. “If that’s a stick it needs to go back outside.”

“You’ve been going on all of those long bike rides without me so I dug up your writing pen from where I hid it for you. It’s time you started writing again.”

He nudges my hand with his nose and I take the disposable gel pen from him. “I was just getting used to not writing.” I rinse it off in the sink, then scribble on the grocery list. “Still works.”

Fleegle takes a drink of water from his bowl to get the mud out of his mouth. “If you don’t want to write, you could still ride your bike. The neighbor down the street has a trailer for her bicycle and her two kids ride in it when she goes on long bike rides. She doesn’t leave them at home all alone, she shares her love of nature with them.”

“Do her kids weigh 85 pounds like you do?”

“I don’t know.”

“If her kids are full grown I’ll get you a trailer?”

He looks down at his paws for a moment, considering. “Yep, they’re full grown and in their twenties. The boy even has a scruffy beard that makes him look like a terrier. They can’t find work, even with college degrees, but they’re very well behaved when riding in their mom’s trailer.” He tilts his head to the side. “I want a big one I can lie down in, and with enough room to bring along a couple of friends if I want. Everyone loves nature.”

“They better be small friends, very small friends, like Chihuahuas or Min Pins.”

“What about Buck? I doubt he weighs very much.”

 

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