This morning we had fog rolling in across Hillmomba. Across the front acreage that we pretend is our yard. I could hardly see to the end of the driveway.
I backed T-Hoe out of the garage, heeded his beeper warning that I was too close to something, which was actually nothing, as that thing alerts me when I am about to back over the three-foot drop of the carport. I snapped on my seatbelt, extended my mirrors, guided T-Hoe's PRNDL to D, and headed up the driveway.
"Hey! What's that? That black thing under the cedar tree."
"I can't tell. Wait. Let me put my window down. Huh. A chicken?"
"It's rectangular. Not a chicken. Why would a chicken lay under the cedar tree?"
"What IS that?"
"I'm going to drive through the yard for a better look."
A view from 180 did nothing to solve the mystery. Living or non? Feathered, furry, or cardboard? I couldn't tell. Just then, the thing raised a head and looked right at me. What WAS that? I was about to yell, "It's a raccoon!" Something about the white fur around the eyes. How bold it was! Laying right there in our front yard, under that cedar tree where our dogs like to sleep...
Tank the beagle glowered at us. He likes his sleep. He was curled up into himself, only the black saddle marking on his back showing. Until he raised his head to face us.
I'm hiding my Mystery, Inc. membership card. They'll have to pry it from my sweaty confused palms to take that thing away from me.