Back in my cushion pile, I double check to see if any paws have been prying at my secret stash. Ball? Check. Fluff collection? Itâ€™s still here. Boneâ€¦ Whereâ€™s my bone? Someone has been here. Someone has taken my bone.
Panic sets in at first. Who would have taken my bone? Who would know where it was hidden? No one knows about my stash, not even my best friends, Izzy and Buck. And surely, Christie and Debbie wouldnâ€™t want it. Or would they?
I have to calm down. There are too many variables racing through my mind right now and all Iâ€™m doing is blaming everyone. But, it can only be one of them, so I have to find the clues thatâ€™ll lead me to my bone. Letâ€™s see, the old man and I began our travels many days ago (I have since forgotten when it was that we left), and as far as I know, there wasnâ€™t anyone else in the house when we left.
I dig in deep, sniffing all of my treasures to see if there are any trace elements of the perpetrator. Thereâ€™s nothing on the ball, but I catch a faint whiff of something different stuck in the fuzz. Evidence? Itâ€™s not the old manâ€™s scent, but it is somewhat familiar.
The fluff pulls apart easily, revealing a new item caught in the tangles. It smells fruity, and a little gummy, like those treats that Christie likes to snack on sometimes (she doesnâ€™t ever share those ones). This is a great clue to start out with and gives me an excellent place to start investigating the whereabouts of my bone. But first, I eat the clue (just to make sure nothing is overlooked) and it isnâ€™t that great.
Itâ€™s time to go check on some possible suspects. Down the hall and out into the yard (itâ€™s nice to be able to go out whenever I want to again). I braced for a cold blast, but was met with a comfortably warm breeze. I can already smell the new grass beginning to grow and even the birds have begun hopping around in the tree again (though the leaves arenâ€™t there yet).
Then I spot Buck, who is now sniffing around some new flower pots. He looks suspicious. Itâ€™s time to see what he knows.
â€œHey, Buck,â€ I call out nonchalantly. â€œWhat are you doing?â€
â€œNothing!â€ he sharply responded, his leg hiked up halfway while he checked his surroundings. When he realized it was just me, he finished what he was doing and joined me at the fence.
It was time to get down to business. â€œHave you seen my bone?â€ I started. â€œYou know the one that smells really delicious?â€
â€œNot me,â€ Buck answered without hesitation. â€œWhere was it?â€
â€œHa! Nice try, Buck. Iâ€™m not telling you where my secret hiding place is.â€
â€œThatâ€™s okay. I already know where it is.â€
â€œWhat?â€ I drew back in surprise. â€œAlright, where is it then?â€
Buck shrugged confidently, â€œbehind the third couch cushion after you pass the zipper on the left.â€
How could this be? Iâ€™ve been hiding my things there forever, and suddenly everyone knows where it is. And I know that if Buck knows, every dog in the neighborhood surely knows. Then it hit me. Buck did have my bone. If he knew where it was, then itâ€™s obvious that he took it.
â€œSo it was you that took it!â€ I accused. â€œWhy did you try to lie to me? You mustâ€™ve known Iâ€™d figure your scheme out in the end.â€
â€œYou asked if I had seen it. I didnâ€™t. But Christie, she could smell it,â€ Buck chuckled to himself. â€œShe went over there to take care of some things, and I heard her scream that sheâ€™d found something smelly.â€
â€œShe could smell my secret hiding place?â€ I was befuddled. Rarely could our companions appreciate a good sense of smell. But, she mustâ€™ve liked it so much that she took it for herself. And thatâ€™s just rude. â€œI guess itâ€™s gone now. I really liked that bone too. It still had a lot of flavor stuck to it.â€
â€œI donâ€™t think she liked the smell, so Iâ€™m sure she didnâ€™t keep it,â€ Buck assured. â€œIn fact, I think it bothered her so much, that when she came back out, she tossed it out into the yard. And I donâ€™t remember her picking it up.â€
â€œSo, itâ€™s in the yard?â€
â€œProbably, if the squirrels havenâ€™t taken off with it yet,â€ Buck affirmed, but then turned away thoughtfully. â€œThose rascal critters, I think they stole the flowers out of the pots too.â€
â€œIâ€™ve got to go,â€ I cut him off before he started ranting on any further. He can drift off with his wild accusations and theyâ€™ll last for hours, especially when it comes to squirrels or bunnies.
I scanned the yard, searching for anything out of place. Zigzagging, I checked under sticks, leaves, and even some dirt. Then I caught a whiff of something. Â It was strong and powerful, floating in on the breeze. I followed it right to the far edge of the fence, and uncovered my bone. Victory!
I knew I would find it. And now, itâ€™s time to chew. Unfortunately, the smell was obviously less appreciated by others, and as soon as I returned it to its spot, the old man found it and replaced it with something new. And this one did taste a little better too.
Jason DuronÂ is a short story writer and author of several fiction stories.Â Curious and lovable as dogs can be, the Adventures of Rocky give you a chance to see daily life from a â€œdogâ€™s eye viewâ€ and share in their thoughts.Â Please enjoy, and we hope that youâ€™ll feel free to comment and give us insight into your dogâ€™s very own â€œrockyâ€ adventures.