“It must be a river,” Mom said in a sleepy voice. “This place is called Mad Gorge which means—"

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—“

“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.”

“I don’t see why someone has to sit out in the rain all day just to do something for me that I’m perfectly capable of doing myself...”

The kaleidoscope of trees and moss fell into a pattern that made sense. “I’ve been here before!” I wagged.

We ran down the paved road with the shadows of branches on our heads and the smell of clouds in our noses. Ahead, on the other left , a dirt car-trail came to meet the road. Where they came together, a fan of dirty tire prints smeared the pavement, as if nature were trying to reclaim its territory. “Look! Mom! Another road, just like you said there’d be!” I ran ahead to show her the way. “And there are sticks!” Mom hurried to catch up. “Yes! I remember that log now. This is d

“When I was younger, I used to look at maps of logging roads and imagine what it would be like to explore all those paths to nowhere.”

He aimed his witch at the empty air between the potty and the next mountain. “Aren’t your pictures missing someone?”

I looked back at the bite mark and my body went cold. A something was flapping just beyond the edge of it...

“You don’t know where they’ve been,” he said judgily, like Mom was irresponsible for not caring enough to check what her avocados were up to

“No, Mom!” I said with a subtle pull on the leash. “It’s a trap! He’s trying to dognap you!”

She didn't even bother to unlock the mailman van before she descended on me with a hunerd pinching fingers.

"You're not even paying attention to who might be sneaking up on you!” I checked out all the windows, then I checked them again.

“The part where you don’t know how it’s going to end is the funnest part of any story,” I agreed. 

The real reason we were in the Outback of Nevada was because we wanted to say Winnemucca. Try it: Winnemucca, Winnemucca, Winnemucca

"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.

"Mom! No! How could you? I'm a celebrity. It'll be all over TMZ! And my fans will never recognize me with that on."

The crowd went silent as everyone held their breath. The only noise on the farm was the chicka-chicka-chick of maracas. The squiggle snarled