Tag: chocolate labs

Chapter 1 – The Puppy

Published on by Raud Kennedy3 Comments

At the dog show on the Vancouver fairgrounds, I say goodbye to Suzie, Fleegle’s and the new puppy’s breeder, and carry the puppy back to the car.

“Hey, you don’t smell like my mommy. You smell weird,” the puppy says. “Where are you taking me? Put me down.”

We pass a porta-potty in the parking lot just as a man steps out of it hiking up his belt. The hard plastic door smacks closed behind him and the puppy sniffs the air as she gives him the stink eye.

“That man just pooped in his crate,” she says. Continue reading “Chapter 1 – The Puppy” →

Negotiating with Cookies – It’s Time

Published on by Raud Kennedy2 Comments

I finish up my phone conversation with Fleegle’s breeder, Suzie, and hang up.

“Well, what did my matchmaker say?” Fleegle asks, bouncing on all fours. “Is it time to go to Eugene and pick up my puppy?”

I shake my head. “Nope. There’s been a change of plans.”

He stops bouncing and plops his rump on the floor. “Change of plans? These are things you can’t go changing willy-nilly.”

“Relax, Suzie is coming to Portland for a dog show tomorrow and is going to bring your puppy with her so we won’t have to drive to Eugene after all.”

“Last you said my puppy wouldn’t be ready for weeks and that she had to fatten up first. That ‘meat special’ pizza really did the trick then.”

“Actually, there’s been a puppy shuffle and the puppy coming to town tomorrow isn’t the one originally planned. It’s from the older of the two litters and is ready to go to it’s new home now.”

“A puppy shuffle? Is that what we are to you? Cards? Well, then I’m the ace of hearts and you can be the two of clubs.”

“Sorry. Poor choice of words, but what else can you expect from a lowly two of clubs? I’m not even a three.”

Fleegle snorts. “But she’s still a she, right?”

I nod. “Yes.”

“And she’s still a blonde?”

I nod again. “Yes, she’s still a blonde.”

He seems contented with that. “I’ll have to come up with a new name.”

“I thought you had settled on Fifi.”

“That’s the name of the first puppy. This puppy needs her own name.”

*   *   *

The next morning when I get up, I search everywhere for Fleegle but can’t find him. I check the backyard, the living room, the kitchen, even under the bed. I figure he must’ve gotten out of the yard at night while I slept so I decide to drive around the neighborhood for him.

When I open the car door, he’s sitting in the passenger seat. “Hurry it up,” he says. “We’ve got a puppy to pick up.”

 

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Negotiating with Cookies – The Peanut Kitty

Published on by Raud Kennedy2 Comments

Licking his chops clean, Fleegle ambles out from behind the bamboo in the backyard. “What’s your favorite toy?” he asks.

I put my book down. “My bicycle, I guess.”

“Your beach bike is awesome.”

I recently took Fleegle and my fat bike to the beach and rode for miles on the sand with Fleegle running loose alongside me. “I figured you’d say that. What about you?”

“My bungee cord.”

“You like chewing on that hard plastic, huh?”

“Yep,” he says. “What’s your favorite treat?”

“Coffee. And you?”

“You should be asking what’s not my favorite treat. I’d say carrots.”

“I thought you liked carrots. They’re supposed to be good for your teeth.”

“I’d like them more with peanut butter on them. You know what else? It’s good for you when I eat peanut butter.”

“Why is that?”

“Well, when you give me some peanut butter to eat, and then later see something stuck to my teeth, you go, oh, that’s just peanut butter on Fleegle’s teeth and you don’t stress out about what it really is.”

He licks his lips from corner to corner, and the brownish tinge to his tongue makes me think he’s been eating peanut butter. “Fleegle, what have you gotten into?”

He thumps his tail against the ground. “Let’s just say I found a stash of peanut butter behind the bamboo.”

“Does this peanut butter have a kitty’s face on the label?”

Fleegle’s smile is interrupted by a belch. “Oops.”

I pinch my nose against the stench. “Oh, Fleegle, that smells awful. No more ‘peanut butter’ for you.”

“That’s okay, It’s all gone anyway, at least until the Peanut Kitty comes around again.”

 

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Negotiating with Cookies – The Candyman

Published on by Raud Kennedy1 Comment

Fleegle says, “Raud, why do people call you the Candyman? You never eat candy and I can’t remember the last time you had ice cream, let alone shared any.”

“They call me that because I almost always have biscuits on me.”

“But wouldn’t that make you the Biscuit Man?”

“Probably, but it doesn’t quite have the same ring to it, besides, I don’t remember the Grateful Dead ever singing about the Biscuit Man.”

“Buck the ghost dog sings about biscuits, and he’s dead and very grateful when I share my biscuits with him, though his singing is more of a mooing than singing.”

 

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Previous Negotiating with Cookies – Daylight Savings Time

Negotiating with Cookies – Daylight Savings Time

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Still half asleep, I set Fleegle’s food bowl in its stand as he waits, drooling as he watches.

“Breakfast is early,” he says.

All I can do is grunt an affirmative and go in search of coffee.

*   *   *

I scoop a cup of kibble into Fleegle’s food bowl for his lunch. More drool as he watches.

“Lunch is early too? What’s going on?” he asks.

I shake my head, still sleepy from lack of sleep. “Daylight Savings Time. We lost an hour.”

“How can you lose an hour?”

I rub my eyes. “A shared group psychosis.”

“A what?”

“If everyone decides blue is red, then blue is red even though blue isn’t red.”

“Ah, that sounds like one of those crazy people things only you guys understand. Got it,” he says and digs into his food.

*   *   *

I put Fleegle’s dinner in front of him.

“Dinner is early too. I like this group psychosis thing called Daylight Savings Time, but where do you save the light? Can you take it out when it gets dark, like in the middle of the night when you need to hunt for a snack? Are you saving the light inside the light bulbs? I’ve always wondered how they worked.”

*   *   *

I click off the television and head to the bedroom.

Fleegle looks up from his spot on the couch. “Raud, where are you going? It’s too early for bedtime.”

“No, it’s not. This is the time we always go to bed.”

Fleegle follows me into the bedroom and nose bumps the clock on the nightstand. “Your time machine may say it’s time for bed, but my stomach says we’ve got a good hour to have a snack before bed, maybe a plate of cottage cheese or some cold pizza, and nothing tells time better than my stomach.”

“Fleegle, as of this morning blue is red and red is blue. In six months, blue will be blue and red will be red again.”

“Well, Raud, you can play all the mind games you want, but that’s not going to stop my stomach from growling. Let’s use some of that light you’ve saved and look around in the fridge. Maybe we can find some cold fried chicken or pizza slices.”

 

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