Our neighbors who we call “The Cookie People” just came by. The Cookie People are much beloved around here for bringing giant cookies that they give to the dogs. Everyone was in the house with the screen door shut, so The Cookie People came by and with no one to greet them, they threw the giant cookies up on the porch.

We’ve watched for two years the ever escalating insanity with which the dogs celebrate the cookie people parties. They can hear/smell/psychically connect with them coming from a block away. They’re older people those cookie people and they walk slowly, it takes them a long time to appear at our gate. But the dogs know they’re coming, they always know they’re coming.

It started out with wagging happy tails. politely greeting them at the gate. And then the barking started. And then the screaming, screaming and pushing each other out-of-the-way lunging, relentless barking, leaping to the top of the fence, knocking each other down. Ripping the cookies out of the cookie people’s hands. Bursting out of the house in a mad frenzied tangle of teeth, and hair, and shouting. They tumble-down the stairs, falling, getting up, running across each other, fighting to be first, for the cookies, the love of cookies. Tearing great chunks of dirt out of the ground to consume every crumb of cookie. The terrible roars and gnashing of teeth. And the cookie people smile with delight, and comment on how sweet they are. And I laugh and I laugh and I laugh wondering where it will lead one day. Who will win. Who will eat all of the giant Kirkland dog biscuits.

Roy won today’s war of the cookies, as the cookies flew towards the porch he launched, crashing through the mesh on our antique screen door. One tremendous elegant athletic leap, his long muscular body flying through the air, yellow eyes flashing, a perfect landing to meet the cookies, the 3 cookies that came for the 3. And then on this breezy warm late spring afternoon he ate them all.


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