George Knows

by Mindy Mymudes

  “Moooom. I want another one,” The Creep whines. This Boypup needs to learn how to whine properly. I whine to show him the proper way. Well, I want my food too.

  Karly snaps off her leash and hangs it on the peg next to the door. I shake my fur to settle everything back into place. She mussed up my ears a little. “Mom, Auntie Heather says that George needs to lose a couple of pounds. No pancakes!”

  What? I race to the kitchen before Packmom takes them away. I earned those pancakes with my nice walk and proper pottying.

  “He can start his diet tonight. I’d have to waste all this food, the pancakes are stirred in,” my beloved Packmom tells my stingy Girlpup. “Joey, I’ll make you some more after I’m done with mine. Karly, I’ll just give George less food from here on. I think some green beans and pumpkin will keep his tummy full.”

  “As if. The dog is a walking stomach.”

  Well, not exactly, but food is very important to keep my nose working properly.

  Karly takes her seat at the table and Packmom puts a plate in front of her. I sit on her foot and wag my tail.

  My turn.

  “If you move off my foot, I can get your food.”

  Oh, right.

  “So, did you find out anything about the bones you found?” My Packmom puts a bowl in front of my nose. It smelltastes wonderful in my nose—mapleburntegghotflourticklecinnamonmaple mixed with fishcoldcrunch kibble. I take my first bite, and then really chow down. My bowl is empty! Someone stole my food. Aaaaagh! Packmom! Packmom, it’s empty, I am starving, and my food is all gone.

  Burp.

  Excuse me.

  Karly narrows her eyes at me and finishes chewing before she turns to Packmom. “I’m not sure. George found a bunch of junk that Auntie Heather thought might be important. He also found some weird tracks, and trees that have shredded bark. I started to do a search last night, but since someone says…” Karly’s voice trails off while she gives Packmom a glare before she continues, “…I’m not allowed to use the computer until my homework is done, I didn’t get to.”

  “So your homework is done? Do you want me to go over it with you?”

  “No, that’s ’kay, homework was easy. After breakfast I want to see if I can find anything about the bones or whatever is out there.” Karly shovels more breakfast in her mouth, almost as fast as I can.

  Packmom pulls a chair out and sits next to Karly. “Easy. It’s Sunday, you aren’t late, and you can enjoy your breakfast.” She takes a bite of pancake off a plate that was magically already there. Food is never magically there in my bowl. I sit pretty, but she doesn’t share. “I’d rather you go outside today. It’s too pretty a day to waste it inside. Why don’t you see if Heather needs you for something.”

  I agree with Packmom.

  The Creep has to break in. “I want to go, too. Please, can I go?”

  Karly talks through a mouthful of pancake as she glares at The Creep. “She needs me to do a computer search.”

  “Which you can do tonight. When you’re finished it’s your turn to do the dishes, and then out you go. Just let me know before you go, ’kay? Oh, and avoid the woods until they catch whatever shredded the trees. Even if it doesn’t have anything to do with the old bones I’d feel more comfortable if you stayed away. Let the police and your aunt—since I can’t imagine her not getting involved—deal with it. Joey, the garden needs weeding. There are strawberries and peas ready for picking. You can help me. When your father gets back from the lumberyard he’s going to work on the new shed. He mentioned he needed your help.”

  The Creep bounces in his seat. His plate falls to the floor without breaking. I am on it like a flash and clean it better than the dishwasher will ever do.

  “Mooooom!” The Creep still doesn’t get how to whine. I wince at his high pitch. This Boypup better mature soon.

  “Pick it up and rinse it off. You can have one of my pancakes, I’m getting full.”

  Impossible.

  Well, maybe Packmom has another extra. I walk over to her chair and rest my head on her lap. Please? I bat my eyelashes. Cruel Peep, she just laughs.

  “I’m done. May I be excused?” I know Karly says this automatically. It just seems strange she would want to be excused from eating more. Peeps seldom made sense.

  Karly’s leash is on the floor. My Girlpup will never find it there, so I drag it to her. It’s time to go see Auntie Heather. I hope she’s planning to head back to the park. That Bad Thing is on the loose and the Badge Dude isn’t going to find it without my nose.

  “Mom, why can’t I go with Karly?”

  “If you do the dishes for her, I’m sure she’ll be glad to have you tag along.” Packmom winks at Karly, who is rigid at her seat. Yeah, I don’t want him along, either.

  “No. I don’t really want to go. Guess I’ll wait for Dad.” Joey takes a big gulp of juice and races out the door, sticking out his tongue at Karly as he passes her.

  Karly sighs dramatically, collects the dishes, and washes them.

  Yawn.

  This is taking her forever. The world could end before she finishes. I have to eat before the world ends.

  Karly’s shout wakes me up. When did I fall asleep? “Mom, I’m going to Auntie Heather’s now.”

  “You don’t have to shout. Try to be home for dinner, it’d be nice to have the whole family together for a change.”

  “I’ll try. Anything you want from Auntie Heather?” Karly picks up her backpack and her leash.

  “Go on, shoo, go learn magic from your aunt. When you get home I'll teach you some magic.” Packmom uses her hands like she’s pushing Karly out the door.

  “I thought you didn't know any.”

  “I know the magic of folding fitted sheets.”

  Karly rolls her eyes, clips her leash to my collar, and tugs me out the door. Gagging, I follow.

  Chapter Nine

  I snoof around Auntie Heather’s kitchen. Roquefort must’ve been in, there isn’t even a crumb and Auntie Heather usually leaves plenty on the floor.

  “I froze some nonfat yogurt for you, George, and there are plenty of baby carrots for your snack later.”

  I give her puppy eyes. She rolls hers.

  “You just had breakfast.”

  Harumph.

  “So what’s up for today?” Karly asks as she steals a Snickerdoodle cookie from the counter. Auntie Heather doesn’t say a word about the obvious theft. This is so unfair.

  “I think we need to go back to the hole with some equipment. My bag is filled with candles, crystals, oils, and herbs. Oh, and your grandmother’s silver bell, its sound is sweeter and the power stronger than my little brass one, and a rope ladder of course. I also want to take some pictures. Did you find anything on the Internet?”

  Karly’s eyes dropped to the ground. “Mom wanted me to get my homework out of the way. I told her it was vacation, but…”

  “Oh, I didn’t think. Of course you did.” Auntie Heather made a clucking sound with her mouth. She sounds like a chicken I heard at the fair when Karly took me to a 4-H thing. “I agree with your mom, it’s better to get it over with. The computer is such a time suck, isn’t it? I did a little research of my own, using some old books my grandmother, your great-grandmother, stored in the attic. Our many-times great-grandparents wrote some of them. I thought I saw something familiar about the paw print.”

  “What? What is it?” If Karly could explode, she would. She’s quivering like a pointer on a bird. Course, I want to know, too. I am just too cool to quiver. Drooling isn’t excitement. I shuffle closer to Auntie. What is The Bad Thing and why doesn’t it take a bath? It surprises me the Badge Dude couldn’t smell it.

  Auntie Heather carries a book as long as my front leg and about as wide, big, and heavy looking. I try to stand on my hind legs to sniff it.

  “George, off. This is too fragile for you to paw. Come over here, Karly, where the light’s better.”

  Karly obediently follows Auntie Heather to a window sea
t in the front room. I beat them there and jump up onto it, starting to make my three turns. It’s nice to nap in the sun.

  Auntie Heather sighs. “George, I know you think this is your spot, but we need to use it for a bit. Move your butt.” She gives me a soft shove and I ooze to the floor.

  Fine.

  It’s too hot in the window anyway.

  She opens the book to a spot marked by a ribbon. There is a drawing of a four-legged thing. I sit straight and crane my neck to see the picture better. Whoa, that is one ugly creature.

  “It’s green? And are those scales with fur? What are those spikes on its back and head? I don’t get it. Are you sure this picture isn’t from a great-relative’s nightmare? Maybe it’s a dinosaur? Except they’re extinct.” Karly sounds as confused as I feel. “Wow, look at the claws on it. It sort of looks like an elephant without a trunk. Are those more claws on its back and tail? No way is that real.”

  “I believe it’s quite real.” Auntie Heather smiles. “It’s too old to have been changed with a computer program.”

  “What is it then? I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything like that at the zoo.”

  The zoo won’t let me in, but I can’t imagine they’d have anything so stinky there.

  Auntie Heather looks at me. “They have skunks.”

  How does she do that so easily? I have to bang on Karly’s mental shields to get her to let me in. Humph. I scootch as close as I can to the book, rest my head on the bench, and sneeze. I agree with Karly—nothing looks like that. Nothing smells like that, either.

  Not even those stripey kitties.

  “It’s called a Hodag. They’re very rare creatures, a link between dinosaurs and mammals,” Auntie Heather uses a finger to trace what she’s reading.

  Never understood why Peeps insist on writing when scent and markings give a more complete picture. I know it’s a dinosaur-mammal. What’s a dinosaur-mammal? Can I eat it?

  Auntie Heather pushes my head away before a string of drool drops on her book.

  Karly shakes her head. “No, Aunt Heather.” She points to the black squiggles. “According to this it was a prank. There isn’t any such thing as a Hodag. Um, except for the school mascot in Rhinelander, Wisconsin. “

  “Keep reading. After all, some people don’t think there is any such thing as magic. And yet…”

  How can anyone not believe in magic? They must ignore the changing seasons and life.

  Sheesh.

  Peeps can be blind.

  “George, it’s that disbelief that we can use to hide things in plain sight. Well, Karly, what do you see now?”

  The book is too bulky for Karly to lift so she gets closer, with her nose nearly pressed to the page. “The words are swirling around. I can hardly make it out. Um, stop it.” She shakes the book. “Stop moving. Stupid words. ’Kay. The paragraph is different now.” If she doesn’t close her mouth a fly is going to land in it.

  “You need to remember that magic requires belief. You accepted what you read the first time. Next time, ask the book if it has anything else to share before you close it.”

  Makes sense. If the Peeps have to store their information, I wish their books would talk to me. Too hard to read and turn pages with my nose—they get all gooey and stick together. Books aren’t made very well.

  Karly’s jaw opened and she looked up at Auntie. “They’re preserved by witches because they’re lucky? Why would we preserve monsters that eat humans?”

  That’s a good question. The only things that should be eaten are bacon, steak, chicken nuggets, hamburger, and fish.

  Not Peeps.

  “We really don’t know that those bones were killed, much less eaten by the Hodag. It’s a good puzzle. Puzzle or not, from now on, the only time you go into the woods is with me. Is that clear?”

  Karly carefully puts the book back on the seat. “Yes, Auntie Heather. I don’t think I want to meet the Hodag by myself.” She glances down at me. “Mr. Short Legs wouldn’t be much help if a dinosaur tried to kill us.”

  I harumph. Auntie Heather shakes her head and rolls her eyes. “Karly, the Hodag isn’t a monster. I bet they’re the basis for dragon stories.” She points to the picture in the book. “This looks a lot like the Chinese dragon and some of the dragon figurines you collect, doesn’t it?”

  Karly looks at the picture again, tracing the outline of the Hodag Bad Thing with her finger. I admit, those things would come in handy sometimes. “Maybe. A little. An ugly dragon maybe.”

  I lift up a little and sniff the picture before Auntie Heather can stop me. It’s very ugly and it doesn’t smell like gassulfurdrysnakecatstink.

  Books are silly—they don’t have the right information. This one smells like old paper, ink, and, hmmm, is that cake batter? I lift up a little again and try to lick the page. Auntie Heather pulls me back with my collar. Curses, foiled again. My hero, Snoopy, used to say that in the comics Karly sometimes reads to me.

  “This is a cook book, George. It has recipes in it, and nothing for you to eat, or to sample,” Auntie Heather says before she lets go of my collar.

  That’s totally unfair, I might add. I never grab a Peep by their shirt collars.

  Not since puppyhood, anyway.

  Auntie Heather picks up a bag that smells yummy. I wag my tail. She doesn’t even notice I exist. “It’s for lunch. You can wait. I think we should go back out to the park and see if anything tripped the circle. Now that we know what we might be looking for it should be easier to find more clues. If it’s really like a dragon, then that nest we found might be its treasure trove.”

  Why would it be any easier than it was when I used my nose?

  “Wouldn’t there be fire marks on the trees? Don’t dragons breathe fire?” Karly doesn’t sound any more convinced than I am.

  Auntie Heather taps on a small picture. “Maybe this one doesn’t breathe fire. However, do you see the paw prints? Nearly perfectly round with peg-like claw marks.”

  “That doesn’t explain why we only see one print on the ground and the shredded bark.” My Girlpup reaches down and scratches behind my ears. She knows the itchiest spots and I rub my head closer into her hand.

  “OooOOoooo.”

  Good Girlpup. I moan and my leg shakes.

  How embarrassing.

  Auntie Heather flips a few more pages. “This might be the answer.” She traces another picture. “It looks like they use only their rear leg to pogo up trees. If they don’t get up as far as they want they slide down the trunk.”

  Or, they are scent marking. I think that makes better sense. Once again, the Peeps don’t remember they have noses.

  “Auntie Heather, this is silly. Everyone knows that dragons breathe fire and fly. They don’t pogo into trees hoping to land where they want and sliding down if they don’t. What kind of potion was great-great-great-great whatever making before she painted these pages?” Karly giggles. I’d laugh, too, except I don’t think this is funny. It’s a Bad Thing that munched on Peeps bones.

  “Have you ever seen a Hodag or a dragon?” Auntie Heather looks serious, I can tell by the crinkles in her forehead. They are very attractive. “Why thank you, George.”

  It’s no wonder that Karly hates me wandering in her mind without permission.

  “No, of course not. No one has ever seen them. The book said the Hodag was supposed to be a prank.”

  Auntie Heather checks out her watch. “Well, only one way to find out. Let’s go to the park. Let’s walk, it’s too nice a day to drive. Leash up.”

  Karly searches for her leash. In the meantime, I grab it off the porch where she dropped it and drop it at her feet. She needs to clip it to the handle. It would make a pretty collar and she wouldn’t lose it.

  Auntie Heather smiled at me. Yep, it isn’t quite as much fun when someone else tiptoes through my mind. “That’s not a bad idea. Karly, the next time you remove the leash, fasten the clasp to the handle and hang it around your neck. It’ll save you a lot of t
ime if you didn’t have to search for your leash all the time.”

  Did I mention that Auntie Heather is a smart Peep?

  Karly rolls her eyes and clips the leash on. I hope I don’t have to drag her to the park—she’s so slow sometimes. We leave and Auntie Heather locks her house.

  Not good if someone steals the fridge.

  The sidewalk is hot and I pull to the grass. Karly tries to yank me back, but I am strong and low. No way am I walking on a hot sidewalk. I put my nose down and snuffle deeply, checking my pee-mail. Hm, the furball twins are out today. The scent is fresh and I follow it to several poles and trees. I lift my leg on all of them to tell my friends and strangers I was here.

  Ah, there they are. “Aroo,” I call out. My tail spins on its own. They are silly looking—little like puppies, buff colored and hairy.

  Short noses.

  Not proper.

  Except some dogs long ago decided they liked to be babied by their Peeps. Whatever works.

  Their Packpeeps call them Tommy and Tuffy. They don’t have a good name like mine. They smell the chemicalsweet of their Peeps. I think they sit on their Peeps’ laps.

  A lot.

  I hope someday that Karly will tell me why Peeps have to put stinky chemicals on their bodies. They smell much better without it. Peeps should always smell like they do after fishing or hunting.

  The fur balls pull their Packpeep’s leashes trying to reach me. Their yips of greeting make me feel good. It’s nice to have friends. I pull Karly over. We greet each other nose to butt. Yup, definitely Tommy and Tuffy, unless they exchanged rear ends.

  Hey, it could happen.

  Karly and Auntie Heather don’t do it right. They both say “hello” to Tommy and Tuffy’s Peep and make noise.

  I take a closer sniff of Tommy’s rear and flare my nostrils. Gassulfurdrysnakecatstink smelltaste is tangled in his fur. Campfire, like the ones Packdad makes for s’mores? I only get graham crackers and marshmallow.

  No.

  No s’mores' smelltaste. There is also the sweetgreenmustysoil smelltaste of the park. I sniff Tuffy, moving around to his mouth. He carries the same scent plus pee and dead mouse.