“After they mounted a thorough search for the horse, and a respectful time had passed for grief, I bet they adopted a buffalo,” I concluded. “Hey, what’s the difference between a buffalo and a bison?”

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.

“He was also a bit of a bully. He used to say, ‘Speak softly and carry a big stick.’” “That sounds like excellent advice to me. Except how can you bark softly or any other way with a big stick in your mouth?”

“Phooey!” I grumbled, knocking the bowl so the kibble spilled all over the bed. That felt pretty good, but one of Mom’s two-handed face rubs would have felt even better.

“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.”