The Search for Greg by Dylan Smith

I stepped out of my doggy bed and performed my morning stretches, then padded downstairs to eat my breakfast. Taking my first bite of chow, I noticed something was different. Where was Greg? He was always here to take me for my walk. I looked everywhere: sofa, bathroom, front yard, back yard! That meant he had to be somewhere else'somewhere beyond the yard.

I had never been beyond the fence by myself. This was a desperate time calling for desperate measures. Without thinking, I ran, jumped, cleared the gate'no fiery pit, no black hole'just dirt, normal dirt.

After being completely amazed that I could land on my feet after a dazzling jump like that, I remembered my agenda: Find Greg.

Running, sniffing, no scent, no trail, nothing'had to keep looking. I had to keep going: had to find Greg: he must be lost.

I had to turn back. My paws ached, my head ached, my heart ached more. I retraced my steps back home. Coming down my street, I caught a glimpse of a shadow in my yard. Mustering my last bit of energy, I ran as fast as I could. As I got closer, I realized it was just the mailman'not Greg. I pushed past him as he was coming through the gate. I climbed the porch, slid through my doggy door, sniffed the air, then collapsed into Greg's chair.

Waking in a stupor' finding that I was being carried upstairs. The familiar scent of my favorite human brought me back to full consciousness. Springing to life, I licked his face with a joy I could not contain. I had never been happier to see him. He explained that he was sorry we missed our walk. He had been next door helping with some plumbing. What a day!