I decided that dissection of the wood pile by whatever means necessary was in order. I started by plunging my nose into all sides of the pile and inhaling big breaths of air, dirt and tree bark. This provided me no further clues. It did however make me choke, cough and hack up something pretty nasty, so I decided to try a new approach. Since the areas that could be sniffed held no further evidence, my giant dog brain concluded that the sound must have come from underneath the pile. To solve this mystery, I was going to need to some excavating under the pile. The soil was wet muddy sand and posed no real impedance. Master was looking the other way checking the fishing poles and Pip was still gone so there wasn’t any great barriers stopping me.
I pride myself on my ability to dig holes and decided that 3
holes were necessary. Two on one side of the pile and one on the other. The
holes were to be big around enough for me to fit into with a depth all the way
to china if necessary. Master was still playing with the fishing poles, not
paying any attention to me, so the first hole started strong. The mud was just
flying. Even when my eyes and ears were completely packed full of mud I still
didn’t slow down. It wasn’t until a foot or so into the project that the master
requested that I quit. Unknown to
me was that he left an open tackle box on the excavation site. I’m not sure
what all those words he said to me meant, he mumbles a lot.
It wasn’t my fault, I couldn’t move it, I don’t have any
thumbs.
To be continued next week, same time, same channel.
