Biscuit chased a blue butterfly past the park sign. Into the tall grass he went.
His ears perked at every smell — clover, damp earth, something sweet. He trotted past a pond and a bone-shaped fire hydrant.
At a fork in the path, Biscuit sniffed left, then right. No house smells. No his owner. His tail lowered. He sat and let out a small woof.
An acorn dropped on his head! Biscuit jumped, then followed a trail of crunchy leaves deeper into the woods.
The path turned to dirt and twigs. A shadow passed overhead — a kite tangled in a tree, flapping in the wind. Biscuit barked at it.
Biscuit curled up under a bush and rested his chin on his paws. The woods were very quiet.
A little girl in yellow rain boots stopped. She knelt and held out a hand. 'Lost, huh?'
She clipped a bright yellow leash onto his collar. 'Let's find your house,' she said, and stood up.
They walked back together, past the hydrant, past the pond, past the bench.
Until the big oak appeared — with its blue mailbox. And there stood his owner, calling his name.
Biscuit ran, wagged, and licked her hand. Then he looked back at the girl in yellow boots.
He barked once. Thank you.