“Where’s everybody going?” I asked. “They’re all leaving because of the smoke, I guess.” Mom’s shoulders twitched, shrugging off a thought like it was a fly in her ear.

“What do you suppose this frisbee is doing here?” I sniffed. I’m not really a fetch kind of guy, but picking up a frisbee is a great way to start a game of tag, so I tested its texture with my teeth.

Once we fell in and learned to accept wet in our socks, smoke in our lungs, and not to count on kindness from strangers, it turned into a kind of freedom. Once you give in, it’s quicker to swim to shore than to walk. Though you may come out in a different place than you planned, once you shake yourself off, it’s usually only a few steps back to the trail.

She kept movie-driving with her eyes off the road and paws off the driving wheel while she stuck the Witch’s leash into the plug, and the plug into the charging hole. She checked the road quickly before looking down at the Witch again. “DOG DOO!”

“IT’S A HORSE!” My tail wagged faster as my excitement ratcheted ever-higher. “Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy! I can’t wait to bark at him!”

“Some days great just isn’t one of the choices.” Mom’s whole body sagged as she said it, like the words made her twoteen times heavier.

I tried to imagine it, but the situation Mom was describing sounded more like the middle of a story than the end. “Then how will we get out?” I asked.

“That’s not what it’s like on Dogstagram,” I said. “Dogstagram is like Black Twitter, but for dog issues. Mostly whether there’s equal opportunity in booping, whether or not to conjugate verbs, and if it’s really that dog’s birthday today.”

I don’t usually like it when Mom ties me up and goes somewhere without me, but with Lily there, I didn’t need to bark. While Mom went inside to order, I taught Lily about breakfast. “Here, let me show you how it works,” I coached. “First you say, I’d like a side of bacon. Then you ask, Can I get that with cheese? Now you try.”

“No! Don’t tell me! Let me guess…” I tilted my head in a hmmm and waited, because I know how to do suspense, too. “It’s Batsquatch, right? He waits for them in his doorless cave at the tippity-top. When the herd least expects it, he pops out of solid rock and says Boo! Then the deer die quickly of a painless heart attack so they won’t feel it as he rips them to pieces like a stuffy toy. Right?”

“Drop the potato chips and no one gets hurt!” I barked, refusing the empty paw.

“What the smell is that woman saying?” Mom grumbled the umptieth time I heard it. “Wait, you can hear it too?”

“Don’t you dare take off!” Mom hissed, hooking her frozen claws around my collar and trapping me for monster meat.

Before we even started our hike, we found a real treasure: an unlocked people-potty!

“Oh good! The horse came home after all. I knew we’d find a happy ending.”

When the Weather Jinx spoke, the sky awoke. Right on cue, it darkened to a mominous grey and threw down a spat of rain while it gathered its clouds to show what it could really do. “I sure hope this weather breaks soon,” the Jinx jinxed.

I waited, but there was no rumbling and no tumbling. I waited some more, but still no Mom fell out of the Mom-return slot. I would have to step onto her landing strip if I wanted to look for her. I was just about to take a cautious step onto the runway when I heard a whoosh.

When we dismounted, Mom hid behind the beak of her hat so that no one else in the car kennel could pick her out in a line-up.

Mom snapped her fingers like a flamenco dancer to get my attention. “Oscar! Oscar! C’mere. Up-up!” she begged like a paparazza, waving her paw over the rock like it was even more amazing than she originally thought.

“I have a surprise for you,” Mom said. I lifted my head and cocked my ears, but she wasn’t looking at me. She was looking at the Witch.