Tag: Dogs

“Raud, it’s time to eat lunch,” Fleegle announces from his co-pilot seat in the car.

“I know, but we’re running late so we’re going to skip lunch today.”

“Skip lunch? What do you mean skip lunch?”

“You know that trick where you hold the cookie on your nose but don’t get to eat it?”

“I hate that trick,” he says quietly.

“That’s sort of like skipping lunch.”

“I don’t know how to do that trick.”

“Ha. You’re drooling now just thinking of having that cookie on your nose.”

Fleegle looks forlornly out the window. “I don’t put cookies on your nose.”

“Thankfully.”

Fleegle’s stomach grumbles. “Raud, it’s time to eat. Please put my lunch on my nose.”

Next: Negotiating with Cookies – Sloth Spares a Life

Previous: Negotiating with Cookies – Sandwiches

While walking through the park, Fleegle says, “That person looks sad and lonely.”

There are several people sitting on the row of park benches. “Who?” I ask.

“That woman sitting over there on that bench eating that sandwich all alone. Maybe we should walk over there and keep her company. I bet it would make her day.”

“And your motives have nothing to do with her sandwich?”

“Sharing makes people feel good. I thought I’d taught you that by now.”

“What about that big guy over on that bench? He’s all alone and he’s eat a sub sandwich that’s over a foot long.”

“There’s a reason he’s so big, and I don’t think it’s because he goes around sharing his sandwiches.”

“I didn’t know you were so judgmental,” I say.

“If I were living on the streets and given a choice between those two, I’d definitely choose the woman even though her sandwich is smaller. She’s so skinny you know she loves to share.”

“You haven’t lived a day of your life on the streets. You went from a padded whelping box to the living room couch without missing a beat, or a meal.”

“Are you questioning my street cred? There was the time I snuck out of the yard.”

“Yeah, and you went right next door into the neighbor’s garage, cleaned out their cat litter box, then ate a whole bag of cat food and passed out on their front lawn like a drunk frat boy.”

“You’re the fat boy, not me.”

Next: Negotiating with Cookies – Lunch

Previous: Negotiating with Cookies – Sunny-side Up

“How big is the universe?” Fleegle asks.

“It’s so big we don’t know how big it is.”

“That’s no answer.”

“I know, but there’s more. Some think there could be more than one universe. We might live in a multiverse of more universes than we can count.”

“I can count to ten, and sometimes up to thirteen when it involves treats.”

“And in this multiverse might be a world just like Earth but with an alternate timeline where dinosaurs never went extinct and you can count up to thirteen even when it doesn’t involve treats.”

“You mean a world where dogs ride T-Rex dinosaurs in parades like horses and you humans follow in the golf cart with the flat shovels?”

“Umm… yeah, something like that.”

“Oh, look at the time. It just flies listening to you chatter on about science. Let’s get you outside for your walk. Go fetch your leash, Raud.”

Next: Negotiating with Cookies – Sunny-side Up

Previous: Negotiating with Cookies – Fleegle Daydreams

I’m in the kitchen cooking tacos for dinner when the rubber flaps to the dog door in the office make their familiar flip-flap sound and Fleegle ambles into the kitchen loudly sniffing the air.

“I smell taco smorgasbord sautéing,” he says, siding me at the stove. “You’ll need me to supervise. First thing you need to do is add more meat.”

I add the rest of the ground beef I was planning on putting in anyway.

“That’s a good boy, Raud. Reward yourself with a treat, have an almond.”

I reach into the bag of wasabi almonds on the counter that I was snacking on.

“But only one. I’ll tell you if you deserve a jackpot or not.” A jackpot is a handful of treats, or in my case, a handful of wasabi almonds, paid out like a slot machine when a new skill is mastered. He sniffs the air. “Add more oregano and basil.”

I do as told, then anticipating his next request, I reach for the cayenne pepper and hold it ready.

“Good boy, you’re catching on. Add the cayenne and then treat yourself to one almond.”

“But doesn’t anticipating your next move deserve a jackpot?” I ask, really craving a handful of wasabi almonds.

“It might’ve when you first started learning to cook, but now you need to master more complicated tasks to earn a jackpot. Stop questioning my training techniques and add the cayenne.”

I do as told.

“Now have one almond.”

I eat one, but boy do I want more. Like the old potato chip ad, it’s hard to have only one.

“Now stir it with the big wood spoon.”

I stir.

“Good boy. Now scoop up a heaping spoonful for me to sample. Get as much on the spoon as you possibly can, and why you’re at it, put a few of those wasabi almonds on top of it. If you get this right, you’ll have definitely earned yourself a jackpot of almond.”

Next: Negotiating with Cookies – Fleegle Daydreams

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