My dog had a wayward moment a couple of days ago. I’ll never know what made him do it. I asked him, once he had returned to the warm environs of his home, whatever had gotten into his furry head and addled his otherwise healthy brain. He simply looked at me, grinned, rolled his brown eyes, and maintained an air of secrecy. You see, it happened this way:
Nemo has always been quite satisfied to be the lord of the manor as far as his backyard is concerned. He terrorizes squirrels, digs for moles, and keeps an eye out for furtive strangers in the neighborhood, be they two-legged or four. He has a comfortable bed…two, in fact, one in his snug dog house on the deck and one inside my house. He gets regular meals, a chewy bone every day, and people who love him. So, what made him squeeze his way past the long legs of my son who had opened the front door, and take off like a frenzied canine streak, as fast as his diminutive legs could carry him?
“Nemo,” I shrieked, “return at once, thou ungrateful, shaggy-haired beast.”
“Get back here!” Matt barked.
“Nemo! Nemo!” called my grandson.
All to no avail. Turning deaf ears and a fast disappearing tail toward us, he sped faster than the wind, up the hill. Nose to the ground, he disappeared around the corner, with one young man and a gray-haired granny in hot pursuit.
Matt, being of cool head and prompt action, jumped into his truck, picked Nathan and me up, and continued in the direction we had last seen the delinquent dog. Nemo had disappeared! Where was he? No sign of hide nor hair nor merry bark came our way.
Matt had stopped the truck and we were all three standing on the sidewalk wondering which way to go when the capricious canine reappeared behind us! Dashing up to me, he greeted me as a long lost friend. Evidently, he had raced all the way around the block.
Needless to say, we were relieved, over-joyed, and fatigued. Nemo slept longer than usual the next morning, but did he appear remorseful or penitent? No! He did not. I told him he had scared us out of a year’s growth and given me more exercise than I’d had in a month but he just grinned, wagged his tail and sauntered off to check his food dish. I did, however, detect a gleam of triumph in his eye and a decided lilt to his tail wag. After giving the matter some thought, I believe he was hot on the trail of a mystery. When the door opened, he scented a secret somewhere in the neighborhood and oblivious of possible personal injury, he did his duty by his family and checked it out, making sure everything was secure and safe. However, the level of trust between us has diminished somewhat. I eye him suspiciously when anyone goes to the front door. The phrase heard most often now is watch Nemo. Detective dog or not, he will find it a lot harder to escape his home environs the next time mystery and adventure come calling.
In the four Darcy and Flora mysteries, a yellow cat named Jethro helps solve mysteries. In the Ned McNeil series, Ned’s gray cat Penny is a treasure and in the book to be released this month, By the Fright of the Silvery Moon, Ned acquires a dog. Maybe Nemo has heard so much about these animals who are a great help in solving mysteries, he became inspired to try his hand at being a detective dog too!
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