These days, bushes crowded in too close for a car to squeeze through and roots had chewed up most of the pavement, but you could still smell the rusty skeletons of old wrecks buried in the bushes like a forgotten bone. The ghosts blew in with the morning fog and swirled featherlike through the brush until the sun shined them away around lunch time. 

Donuts are like cheese sticks for Mom. When it takes extra bravery to get home without killing any strangers, Mom rewards herself with a donut. “But they weren’t in the basket where they usually are, and the whole bakery case was locked.” I didn’t like where this story was going. You don’t get between Mom and pastries.

“For the love of Dog, let me go!” I squirmed. “Hold still.” She squeezed me tighter. “I might drop you if I lose my balance.” 

“Can’t the Witch call for help or something?” I asked. “You think there’s going to be cell service all the way out there?” Mom challenged. “We just left the only town big enough for a stop sign for 100 miles in any direction.” 

“No, Mom! This is awesome!” I corrected her. “It’s better than awesome. It’s… There’s no word for how awesome it is in your language.” So I barked the word in my language and did a cartwheel followed by a sprint to show her what it meant. 

As my ears roamed juice boxes, my eyes stayed stuck to the door where Mom had disappeared. Every time the door opened, instead of Mom, a bandit or a veterinarian came out carrying big bags of loot.

“It’s the treasure that sparkles, not the treasure hunter,” I reminded her. “Why don’t you wear the sparkly clothes for a change?” “Don’t be silly,” Mom said. “You’re the star of the show.” I couldn’t argue with that.

Mom’s shoe reached under the table and hooked the loop. I clamped my butt to the floor and braced all four legs. The leash pulled taut and my collar dug into my neck. 

It didn’t really matter where the Wagon was, as long as I was inside it with Mom. But what happens when your home goes back home?

“It can’t possibly be unpaved all the way to Idaho,” Mom decided, forgetting that the Witch didn’t follow her orders like the Wagon and I di

I must have been behind a rock by the time Mom came by. The next time I heard her, she was bellowing my name from farther down the trail.

I must have been behind a rock by the time Mom came by. The next time I heard her, she was bellowing my name from farther down the trail.

“Mom! Guess what!” I wagged. “You’ll never guess who I just chased! He was extra fluffy and—“

“Mom! Guess what!” I wagged. “You’ll never guess who I just chased! He was extra fluffy and—“

“See!” Mom hooted. She clapped her hands and her surprised smile flickered in the firelight. “It wor... Oh.”

"Ack! Do you feel that?” Mom gasped. “The barometric pressure! I feel like I’m choking.”

"Ack! Do you feel that?” Mom gasped. “The barometric pressure! I feel like I’m choking.”

Even though I need no introduction, I asked Mom to introduce my story by writing the furword to my book.

"Oh brother," she said from behind me in a voice like an eye roll. My collar dug into my throat as she reeled me in a little closer.

Screams filled the inside of the mailman van as the ghosts of all the dogless families he'd eaten rattled the bars.