A treasure hunt for the ages
Bandit and the Idiot Dog were playing. Everyone in the neighborhood knew they were playing by the boy’s screams of delight and the dog’s excited baying. The noise was epic.
I hid myself in the laundry room. I had a major project going on in there. Once again, I was using a toothbrush and a cocktail of smelly chemicals to get red, blue and green crayon out of the kid’s school clothes. I swear to Zeus, crayons are my mortal enemy. Even more so than insane Tea Party politicians and the crossing guard lady at my kid’s school.
The Bandit came in and climbed on top of the wine fridge, hopped onto the chest freezer, and liberated a dog treat.
“We’re playing hide and seek,” Bandit told me. “I’m gonna see if Roscoe can find this.”
“Good luck,” I told him, my voice laden with skepticism. I’m not convinced Roscoe’s nose is hard-wired to his brain.
I continued my battle with the evil manufacturers of wax based coloring instruments. It wasn’t long before the boy and dog were back. The dog’s breath smelled remarkably like dog treat.
“Roscoe found the dog jerky,” Bandit informed me. The dog panted, pleased.
I raised my eyebrow. “He found it?”
“No,” Bandit admitted. “I finally just gave it to him.”
Just as I suspected.
“What else can I hide from the dog?”
This was an easy question. “Why don’t you hide yourself and see if he can find you.”
“Mooooooo-oooooom.” The boy turned my name into a five syllable word. “Great. You said it right in front of him!”
“The dog doesn’tunderstand, honey.” I wiped the sweat from my brow and stretched my arm out, rotating my elbow to ease the cramp forming there. Holy wars are tiring work.
“He does, too, understand.” Bandit was indignant. Apparently I had offended the dog. Roscoe, however, didn’t look too put out with his tongue lolling from the side of his mouth and his butt comfortably perched on the vacuum cleaner.
The Bandit put his hands over Roscoe’s long, silky ears. “Don’t listen to her, boy. She’s crazy.”
Crazy? Of course I’m crazy. You read this blog. It’s not like I don’t have plenty of reasons to be totally crazy.
“How about this,” I suggested, “why don’t you take Roscoe around and see if you and his nose can find every single crayon in this house.”
And my mind. Now there’s a real challenge for you.