She was running faster that I knew she would normally, but if she slowed down then we would be overrun by people puppies making observations about how fat Mom’s thighs were, or asking her why she didn’t have a husband. Then we reached a steep slope and sped up it as fast as we could.
Concentrating is like an adventure where nothing happens, and the more you do of it the more you want to tell someone about it and the less there is to tell. I guess that’s the difference between an adventure and what Mom calls a "pain in the ass.”
I was sniffing for critters in the white bushes when I heard Mom whisper-scream, “OH MY GOD!” and then burst out laughing. When I found her, she was laughing at a man who was dressed like a bush and standing still as a statue. He was carrying a lot of luggage with him, including one of the long sticks called a "gun."
“There’s no way that bacon boulder can out-sprint me!” I wagged. “Lemme at him! I'll have him teach you about his problem free philosophy when I catch him.”
Mom says that mountains and canyons tell the story, both about how they were built and how they are fading away. But the story of the mountains in this part of the desert doesn’t make any sense. The lines of their puppyhood are all twisted in unlikely ways, and the mix of rocks and colors are like the unbelievable details in a liar’s story that all seem like they came from somewhere else and don’t fit together. You can’t trust mountains like these
When we got back to the swishy butt crack rocks, there was a problem. This morning there had been little puddles at the bottom of the crack, but now the puddles filled the bowls in the rock like pools.
The mountains bulged roundly out of the ground like a pair of stretch pants. The air was dry, but a different dry than the sharpened and clean dry of the desert. This was a sticky, rustling, itchy dry.
"This sure is beautiful, isn't it, Mom?" I asked. I wasn't quite sure if it was beautiful, so I was hoping she'd tell me. These mountains didn't do all the inspiring gymnastics of the really tall mountains that blocked the desert. They were kind of nubby, and their only trick was to trip and fall right into the ocean with a little splash.
"No!" Mom said slowing down like she wasn't sure whether to start running or fall on the ground herself. "Nononononono!" she groaned. Dr. Remy's Dad handed Mom Remy's leash and started running toward the man. Remy and I could tell that the humans were scared, so we were scared too. Mom's movements slowed down even more until she froze, and so for now Remy and I froze and waited for something to happen.