While retrieving the tennis ball during a game of fetch at the park, Fleegle drops the ball to sniff the grass. After a bit, he begins rolling on his back where he was sniffing. Then he starts grinding his shoulder into the spot. Finally, he stands and shakes, then picks up the ball and trots over.

“Found something good to roll in, eh?” I say, scanning him for telltale tan smears of coyote poop, my least favorite thing Fleegle gets into.

He drops the ball at my feet. “Yep.”

“But not coyote poo.”

His tail wags. “The next best thing.”

And then I catch the scent on the breeze. “Ugh, coyote pee. You really stink.”

“I smell awesome. I smell like a coyote. Don’t I look bigger to you now?”

“You certainly smell bigger.”

“Maybe Hunter will think I’m a coyote now and give me my due respect.”

“You mean by not trying to hump you every other second.”

“I lie down and he still tries to hump me.”

Later, when we arrive at Hunter’s house for a play session, Hunter gives Fleegle’s shoulders a good sniffing over. His eyes glaze over and then he jumps on Fleegle and starts humping like never before.

“Looks like you’ve discovered that coyote pee is an aphrodisiac.”

Fleegle looks at me and rolls his eyes. “He’s not nicknamed Humper for nothing.”

 

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