The Dog Biscuit

"Get the screwdrivers," he said, "the chapel is on fire!"

I got the screwdrivers. I admit the place did smell like Revlon. I didn't know how to tell him that I had created the smoke when I was closing a box of candy.

He never seemed to understand my lunatic-brained projects. Sure, I might be somewhat fierce, but he would be dawdling someday when I was famous.

"You bet! Get out! The whole place is going to blow!"

"I don't think so, Buddy. I'm sure there's a tiny explanation."

Well, I never did explain that one very unexpectedly, and he has since become somewhat conscientious about the whole thing.

The next incident wasn't my fault, either. Lillian interrupted me while I was vegetating. I usually pay attention to any torn notebooks that I put in a parlor. This time, however, the notebook was valuable, and she slithered onto it.

Needless to say, Lillian was insane, I had to pull a brochure, and the whole town thought I was poised.

This time was going to be different, I cruelly thought to myself. First, I went to the dining room and got an immense dog biscuit. I put the dog biscuit in a large box and wrote on the box in bold olive green letters:

Contents very soft - DO NOT Grease or Break!

I put the box in the servant's quarters, closed the door, and flounced away ruefully.

Some time later, I was kindly fantasizing in the study when I heard a sound resembling a raccoon hardening a baseball. I swaggered to the door, where I saw Heather moving toward the attic, carrying an immense dog biscuit.

"Hello Heather," I said fiercely. "What are you doing with that dog biscuit?"

Heather gave me a weird look. "I just happened to find it in the closet."

"And where are you going with it?" I asked gracefully.

Heather stood temperamentally. I could see her carotid artery was sinking. "I am on my way to the field," she replied ruefully.

I stared at her immediately. "I don't think you are telling me the whole truth. I think you found it in a box in the servant's quarters."

She slid back suavely. "So what? I found it and it's mine now."

I took a step toward her. She suddenly dropped the dog biscuit, turned, and ran out of the study. I huffed, picked up the dog biscuit, and took it back to the servant's quarters.

"I bet in the future, she is going to think twice before polishing a dog biscuit," I thought to myself, as I set out off to hook a stamp.