“Why do so man couples dress alike?” Fleegle asks as we walk through the park. “Does Target have a special section, like there’s a Mens, a Womens, and then there’s a Couples? Like Petco does with Dogs, Cats, Birds and Fish?”
“No special section, but my hunch is that it’s because only one from the couple is doing the clothes shopping, and they naturally choose the colors and styles they like for both of them, while the other from the couple just figures it saves them the hassle of a trip to Target, and if their mate likes the clothes then that’s good enough.”
“Well, I’m glad you don’t pick out clothes for me. I’d get tired of wearing blue jeans and t-shirts everyday. That’s almost as monotonous as kibble for breakfast lunch and dinner.”
“If you wore clothes, I doubt the washing machine could handle the post dog park load of Fleegle wash, especially on a muddy day. And what day isn’t muddy at the dog park this time of year?”
“If I wore clothes, I’d wear a kilt in my own tartan.”
“Kennedy tartan is very nice.”
“Not your tartan. I’m not some lame Kennedy flunky.” He lifts his leg on a park bench. “I’d wear my own tartan, the MacFleegle Tartan. Would you like to hear about our clan history?”
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Gnawing the Bone 