“Look, Fleegle,” I say, pointing at a chocolate lab on the far side of the park. “That dog over there could be your twin.”

“I don’t look like that. He runs like he’s full of donuts. I’m much more svelte and graceful than that,” Fleegle says as he licks bits of sugar glaze off his lips.

“Those cinnamon twists are better when glazed, don’t you think?”

He nods agreement. “We should make sure and do a taste test by eating one with glaze and then one without right after.”

“Or you could eat them at the same time, alternating bites.”

He wags his tail. “Oh, that’s a good idea.”

“And then I’ll toss the ball for you and you can show me how graceful you are.”

He ignores my sarcasm. “I met a ballerina at the dog park the other day and she told me her favorite food was pizza. She said it filled her with grace.”

I shake my head. “That’s not how I remember it. Aren’t you talking about that French poodle with the wicked haircut that had gas?”

“I’m pretty sure she said grace.”

“I was glad we were outdoors. When was the last time I cleaned your ears?”

“Did you know donuts are a natural preventative to wax build up in the ear canal?”

“There’s nothing natural about donuts, Fleegle, and don’t try to change the subject.”

Fleegle sniffs my shoe. “You stepped in something.”

“I did not.”

He sniffs my other shoe. “Oh yes you did, twice. I bet that ear cleaner is good for shoe cleaning too.”

 

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