“I heard you,” said Sylvia as we were walking down to the barn. “I heard you talking on the phone to the Vet’s office and making an appointment for me.”
“Me? No,” I said, batting a few flies away from my head. “I was making an appointment with the dentist for me – not you. And you know what?”
“What?” asked suspicious Sylvia.
“You’re going with me. That’s what. Isn’t that exciting?”
“No,” answered Sylvia. “Me? Go with you? Why?”
“Because I’m afraid of the dentist, and I need somebody to hold my hand and who better than you.”
Sylvia splashed through a small puddle. “I appreciate your confidence in me,” she said, “but you know I don’t like leaving here, and I really don’t like driving in a vehicle, especially when you’re the driver.”
“But you’re my best friend, Sylvia. You’ll enjoy a nice drive into Socorro, a change of scenery.”
“What’ll I get to eat?”
“Er … nothing right away, but after – after we get to Socorro, you can have a nice meal. What would you like?”
“Steak,” Sylvia said without hesitation. “I’d like a steak, medium-rare but closer to rare than medium if you know what I mean.”
“I do. That’s exactly how I like steak. We can split one later.”
“Later?” Her ears shot up. “How much later?”
“Well, we have to go into town to buy the steak. You don’t see one here in the house, do you?”
“No, but the Eagle Guest Ranch has fine steaks.”
“Time for your brushing, Sylvia,” I said cheerily. “I just happened to bring your brush and comb with me. Stand still.”
“Why do I have to be brushed? Especially when we’re walking along having an interesting conversation about steaks?”
“Because you need it,” I answered, avoiding the last. “You’re all tangles. And you like being brushed.”
Sylvia’s eyes narrowed as she tried to pull away from the brush. “I don’t like being brushed all the time and especially when I’m happy walking along after a rain. I’m beginning to suspect some –”
“Oh, look.” I said to distract her while I finished brushing and applied a Dog Bathing Wipe to her back. “There’s Gordo on the wagon. He’s coming down from the canyon, and he looks mad.”
“He is mad,” Sylvia said. “We’re all mad.”
“I don’t see any gold in the back of the wagon.”
“That’s why we’re mad.”
“There’s no gold?”
“No gold. Just a piece of paper called a register that we could sign saying that we’d found it and a place for comments. There was also a bunch of dumb things like keychains and little teddy bears that people had left. It’s a swiz, that’s what.”
“Why do you say that?” It was my turn to ask.
“Because the place we dug was just right. It fit the description in the article and it looked like someone had dug there a long time ago, and we were sure it was the Lost Adams Diggings.”
“And it wasn’t?”
“No, it was a #!%$ geocache, that’s what. We were deceived.”
“Did you leave a keychain or anything?” I asked.
“We left a rock.”
“And did you sign the register?”
“Oh, yes. And I made a comment, too, but you don’t want to know what it was. Deception, it’s all around us. Everywhere we turn.”
I couldn’t help looking over my shoulder, but all I could see was Brandy eating some greenery and looking very innocent.
At this point, Sylvia stepped upon her invisible soapbox. “You, my friend and, yes, my mother, are trying to deceive me. I saw you sneaking my bed and one of my toys into the pickup. And you’ve prettied me up and made me smell like some sissy dog. You’re either going to give me away or take me to the vet, and I won’t go! No, no, I won’t go.”
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