Tag: Chocolate Lab

Chapter 10 – Tug Toy

Published on by Raud Kennedy1 Comment

Standing by the hall closet, I call out, “Fleegle, we’re going for a walk.”

“Great minds think alike. I was just going to suggest you get your lazy backside off the couch and go fetch your leash,” Fleegle says as he ambles down the hall from his napping spot in the bedroom.

I get the leash from the back of the closet door. “You’re the one to talk. You’ve done nothing but snore all morning.”

“Was not. I was counting my breaths just like you do when you meditate, it’s just easier to do when I can hear them.”

“So you were counting your snores in search of your higher self?”

“Actually I was in search of your higher self. I figure I’d be doing you a big favor if I could find him for you.” I slip his harness over his head and buckle it around his waist. “I bet that would be worth a lot of biscuits.”

“Biscuit nirvana for you.” I attach his leash, then take the pink harness and leash I just got for Franny from the back of the closet door.

Fleegle cocks his head at it. “What’s that for?”

“It’s for Franny.”

“Why do you need to give her a leash? Haven’t I always led you back home just fine on my own?”

“You sure have, Fleegle, every time, but I thought you’d like to share the responsibility. It can’t be easy carrying all that on your own.”

“Well, you know, I could use some help pulling you in the right direction when you’re being particularly obstinate about going in the wrong direction, or when you’re being anti-social and avoiding other dogs.” He gives the new leash a sniff.

“I figured you’d feel that way.”

Franny hears us talking and trots down the hallway to us, dragging a rope tug toy in her mouth. She eyeballs the leash in my hand and spits out the tug toy. “Ooo, that one looks like fun,” she says and makes a grab for it.

But before she knows what I’m doing I have her harness over her head and buckled at her belly, leash already attached to the metal loop on the back.

Fleegle looks at her and says, “Now you look just like me.” He shakes his fur inside his harness.

She sits down and scratches at her harness. “I don’t like this tug toy. And I look nothing like you. You’re the color of – -”

“Be nice, Franny,” I say. “Don’t say something hurtful you’ll regret later. Fleegle is a sensitive dog.”

“I was only going to say he’s the color of my food.”

“Oh.”

“Why? What did you think I was going to say?”

Fleegle looks up at me. “Yeah, what did you think she was going to say?”

I’m saved by the puppy when she asks Fleegle, “Why has he tethered himself to us?”

“We’re taking him for a walk and sometimes he has trouble keeping up and needs a good pull.”

“Like tug-of-war, but we get to wear a harness instead of using our teeth?’

“Yep.”

*   *   *

Halfway through our walk, Franny smells something interesting to her and pulls hard to the left. “Let’s go this way.”

Fleegle doesn’t budge as he continues to sniff the base of a shrub. “But I’m in the middle of something. Hold your horses.”

“What horses? Is that what I smell?” she says and bucks against the restraint of the leash.

My arms are extended as far as they can go. I look skyward, at one with the leashes, the buckle that holds the two together.

Next chapter – Truth

Previous chapter – Fleegle’s Biscuit

First chapter – The Puppy

Chapter 8 – Soap

Published on by Raud Kennedy1 Comment

“Whatcha smiling about, Fleegle?” I ask, while sitting out on the patio in the sun.

“Nothing in particular, just smiling. The sun is out, the spring grass is growing and sweet tasting, and Franny has turned out to be a good source of sticks.”

“Sticks?” I ask. “Is that some form of dog euphemism for something I don’t want to know about?”

“You mean like the kitty brand peanut butter? Nope, sticks mean sticks.”

He points his nose at her across the yard where she’s laying in the grass chewing on one now. “See? She’s found another.”

He runs over and takes it away from her, then trots back to the patio. “I never knew I had so many sticks until she started pointing them out to me.”

I now notice he’s perched on a pile of them. “All of those sticks are your?”

“Of course. It’s my yard. I’ve put my moniker on pretty much everything back here. Even a rainstorm can’t wash my mark off. Once it’s on, it’s on to stay.”

I feel something grab my big toe sticking out of my sandal and look down. Franny has settled in for a good chew on my foot.

She looks up at me and says, “He’s right. You’re the only thing back here that doesn’t smell like his pee.”

“Ha, that’s not for his lack of trying, and because I use a lot of soap,” I say as Fleegle eyes my big toe and tries to get into position to cock his rear leg.

Next chapter – Fleegle’s Biscuit

Previous chapter – Sandwich Making Supervisors

First chapter – The Puppy

Chapter 6 – Ham & Cheese To Go

Published on by Raud KennedyLeave a comment

I’m standing in front of the open fridge checking what there is to eat when I hear Fleegle behind me. He could be no where to be seen but at the sound of the fridge door opening, he magically materializes out of thin air. “Whatcha doing, Raud?”

“I’m thinking about fixing something to eat.”

“Oh boy, what am I having?”

“Not you, me.”

“Didn’t you learn to share as a kid?”

Franny drags a stick inside from the yard. “Do all people think have to about things so much before doing them? Or is it just you?”

“This is nothing,” Fleegle says. “At least he’s thinking about something and not just thinking about thinking.”

“Okay, I’ve decided,” I say.

Fleegle sits next to Franny and says, “Wait for it.”

“Yes, I’m going to make a sandwich.”

Fleegle’s tail sweeps the floor behind. “He’s a terrible sandwich maker. He does it all backwards. He puts the mayonnaise on the bread instead of the bread in the mayonnaise.”

Franny spits out a chunk of wood from her stick. “What’s a sandwich?” she asks.

“A sandwich is an awesome way to eat mayonnaise,” he says and thumps his tail against the floor.

Franny looks at Fleegle. “What’s mayonnaise?”

Fleegle shakes his head. “I’ve no idea.”

“But you eat it?”

“Of course.”

“So you eat things even when you don’t know what they are?”

“I’m a Labrador.”

“So am I but every time I start chewing on something that smells tasty, Raud pulls it out of my mouth and shoves that pink rubber thing in my face.”

“That’s the puppy Kong. Impossible to eat, but you can eat what Raud puts inside it.”

“What’s he put inside it?” she asks.

Fleegle watches me lay the cold cuts on the cutting board and get the jar of mayo from the fridge. “Well, if it were up to me, I’d put a few slices of ham in there, along with some provolone cheese, then slather it in mayonnaise.”

Next chapter – Sandwich Making Supervisors

Previous chapter – In Training

First chapter – The Puppy

Chapter 3 – What’s In A Name?

Published on by Raud Kennedy1 Comment

While the three of us are sitting outside in the backyard trying to come up with a name for the puppy, she asks, “Why do I need a name? What is it?”

“It’s what people call you when they want to get your attention,” I say.

“Maybe I don’t want to give my attention to any people. They’ll just grab me when I squat.”

“They also use your name when they want to tell someone about you,” Fleegle says.

“Oh, I get it, like when I tell you, food breath, that we should steal the biscuit man’s biscuits and cut out the middleman.”

“Um… I guess so,” Fleegle says. “But I don’t know why you’d want to do that.”

“Before you choose a name, I’d like to make an observation,” I say.

The puppy looks up at me and tilts her head to the side. “The biscuit man speaks, I still can’t get over that.”

“What is it, Raud? Observe away,” Fleegle says, glancing skyward. “Just as long as it’s not about your higher self.”

“Well, I’ve noticed that people and animals often become like their names. Over time they take on whatever qualities are associated with their names. A friendly name often leads to a friendly personality and a mean name often leads to a meanie.”

It’s Fleegle’s turn to tilt his head at me. “And you named me after the handlebars on your fat bike because you wanted me to be like them? How so? Because if you want me to be all shiny and curvy you’re going to have to feed me a lot more fish oil and donuts.” He tilts his head to the other side. “Are there fish oil donuts?”

“You can’t ride a bicycle without handlebars,” I say. “And aren’t you always saying I’d get lost the moment I stepped out the door without you?”

“Being able to steer does make people happy. Look at all those people on the bus who don’t get to steer. They rarely look happy. They’d be a lot happier with dogs to steer them around and show them all the good spots to pee.”

The puppy barks in frustration. “But what does all that mean?”

“It means that we’re not going to name you after Lizzie Boren or the Queen of Hearts.”

“Or Luna because that’ll be short for lunatic,” Fleegle says. “But what about George?”

“Your chicken, Georgia, that is now a rooster, is named George,” I say. “Besides, George is a boy’s name.”

“But what if like my chicken the puppy turns into a boy in a few weeks? This way we’ve got it covered.”

“Hedging your bets, eh? I think you’re safe in that department this time.”

The puppy gets up and waddles across the lawn toward the bamboo. “I’m not George, food breath. You can be George if you want. I’ll call you food breath George.”

“But I’m Fleegle.”

“I think I’ll choose my own name,” she says as she slips into the bamboo out of sight.

When she emerges, she asks, “You say you become your name?”

I nod. “That’s the theory.”

“Then my name is going to be Franny.”

“Ooo, I like that,” Fleegle says. “It goes well with George, Franny-George.”

“So Franny it is, Franny.”

“But why Franny?” Fleegle asks.

She sits down again. “Because I want to live to be an old lady and smell like flowers all the time.”

Fleegle wags his tail. “I know where there’s some bird poop that smells like flowers. Do you want to go roll in it with me?”

Next chapter – Bedtime, Or Not

Previous chapter – Fleegle’s Help Arrives

First chapter – The Puppy