He'd get up in a jiffy, his eyes popping out, and run over to the pots, sniffing hard. Every pot was sniffed from all directions, sending some hibernating lizards scooting all over the place in the process (the only thing I didn't like about our game). Our flappy-eared friend meanwhile would intensely focus on finding the biscuit and inevitably find it soon. He'd munch on it or rather gobble it down and look up to see if we would say 'Fetch' again. We'd giggle and guffaw. He probably imagined it was because we were proud he had found the biscuit. Little did the fella know it was because of all the wet mud smeared on his nose. (Evil us)
PS: Obviously, our game left us soon with half-broken flower pots much to the dismay of the elders of the house.
|Peanuts by Charles Schultz - Google Images|