Negotiating with Cookies – Werecats

While sharing the couch with Fleegle and watching television, I say, “Fleegle, you know what I envy about you?”

“Beside my cold wet nose and paws scented like Fritos, no, tell me.”

“When you worry, it’s always about something immediate, and then it passes. You never waste your time worrying about tomorrow.”

“I can’t worry about something that doesn’t exist. I don’t worry about werecats, do I?”

“Like werewolves, but cats?”

“Yeah, because they don’t exist, just like tomorrow doesn’t exist until it gets here. And what’s the point worrying about the now? It’s much easier to deal with the now than worry about it. Maybe you just like to worry.” He rolls onto his back. “I think I’ll take a nap.”

“Sleep tight, don’t let the werecats bite.”

Fleegle looks at me, then hops off the couch. As he heads toward the bedroom, he says, “I’m going to nap on your pillow. It soaks up drool better than mine.”

 

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Negotiating with Cookies – Sniff-Sniff

I’m sitting in the den with a sketchpad drawing cartoon dog faces when Fleegle comes in and starts sniffing my legs and knees and staring at me with his head tilted to the side.

“Why do you keep sniffing me and looking at me like that?” I asks.

“You are Raud, aren’t you?”

“Huh? Of course I am. That’s a silly question.”

“You don’t smell like him.”

“Well, I did change my brand of soap this morning.”

“I’m not some dumb puppy that can’t figure that out. You’re back to using Ivory again. It’s not your soap. You smell, well… alien.”

“Oh alright, I’ll tell you. When I went out last night, I ate garlic pizza.”

Fleegle plops backwards onto his haunches. “You had pizza without me? Who ate all the crust? Did you give it to some other dog? Now I know you’re not Raud. He would never do that to me. You’re an alien for sure,” he says and struts out of the den.

“Where are you going?”

“To the kitchen to check on the alien egg thingy. Maybe it hatched and you’re the result. Pod-Raud.”

 

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Previous Negotiating with Cookies – Chowder

Negotiating with Cookies – Chowder

As I pour hot water into my tea mug, Fleegle drops his rawhide chew flip into his water bowl.

“What are you doing?” I ask.

He stares at the rawhide soaking in the water. “Letting it steep for 3 to 5 minutes.”

“Like my tea.”

“Oh, but much better than your tea. That’s like comparing thin broth to chowder.”

A little while later I’m in the den with my mug of tea on the table next to my chair, when Fleegle walks in and drops his gooey half chewed rawhide into my mug.

He looks at me and wags his tail. “Here, give it a try. You’ll love it.”

I look at him nonplussed.

“Ah, poor Raud, you must be on a diet,” he says and scoops his rawhide out of my mug with his tongue. “Mmm, I taste honey.”

 

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Previous Negotiating with Cookies – The Force

Negotiating with Cookies – The Force

I set my book down in my lap. “Fleegle, why are you staring at me.”

“It’s time to eat, Raud.”

“No, it’s not. It’s not even eleven yet. The earliest you get lunch is eleven-thirty.”

Fleegle isn’t convinced. He rests his head on the floor, but continues to stare at me. I go back to reading, but every time I glance over the top of my book, he’s still staring and I start having trouble remaining focused on my book.

“Fleegle, stop staring at me.”

He lifts his head from the floor. “These aren’t the droids you’re looking for.”

“Huh?”

“Never mind.” He rests his head on his paws.

“Your Jedi dog tricks aren’t going to work on me.”

“You can go about your business.”

“I will.” I get up to leave and Fleegle follows me into the kitchen where I find myself scooping an extra large portion of kibble into his bowl.

“Now move along,” he says and starts to eat.

“Yes, Master Fleegle.”

 

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