Spot Remover

 

Across the kitchen, in the far-left corner, sat a small rodent.  Currently, he wasn’t so much looking around but listening to the humans deciding what to have for dinner.  The rodent, we’ll call him Tommy, understood many words, having listened to humans his entire life.  Over time he had pieced together their words with their actions.  Of course, once the cooking began, he was totally captivated by the wonderful aromas.

Tommy’s tummy was grumbling.  He had not eaten since… well, since lunch, and he remembered lunch fondly.  He had the crust from a peanut butter sandwich, and the bottom, pointy part of an ice cream cone.  He loved ice cream, but now he was looking forward to dinner.

Meanwhile, the human’s little boy, Cooter, was up in his room playing with his little green army men.  He had them in tight formation across his bedroom carpet.  Some, the snipers, were up on the dresser, with a few over on the window ledge.  Three of the more severely wounded remained in the Ziploc infirmary.  They had not done well against Spot, the family’s terrier, and now sworn enemy of Tommy's Army.  One was missing his head, one had lost an arm and Joe was missing the end of his riffle.  He wanted to rejoin his battalion but Cooter thought he looked more like someone who wanted to dance than someone who had been holding a gun.

Down the hall from Cooter's room was his little sister, Brooke.  She had gotten home late from school today.  Everyone just thought she had missed the bus again, but truth be told, she had walked home so she could pass through Tony's Market.  That is where she snuck a Hershey candy bar into her backpack.  Now, looking at it, she was feeling guilty, and yet a little proud for being so brave.  She glanced around her room, looking for a hiding place.  There was no way she wanted her mom to discover it, or her snoopy brother.  There, she thought, under the edge of the carpet.  Nobody ever walks against the wall over there and it won't be a noticeable bump.  So that's where she put it.

Now, this should be the place in our story where we find out who has the best sense of smell, Spot or Tommy.  But not yet.

Suddenly, music could be heard from downstairs.  Neither Cooter nor Brooke recognized it, but it was Giacomo Puccini.  What the kids did know is that it would be Italian for dinner tonight.  The heavy aroma of lasagna soon filled the house and Tommy, remember Tommy?  Well, Tommy had taken cover, for whenever it was Italian night, the humans, their utensils, pots and dishes would fly around the kitchen, and the last thing he wanted was to get accidently stepped on.  He would quietly wait until all the humans were sitting around the dining room table, then he would scamper through the kitchen in search of anything not too hot to eat.

That evening, after everyone had cleared the dishes from the table, and the leftovers had been stored in the fridge, Mr. human noticed a blotch of tomato sauce on the tablecloth.   "I can fix this." he proclaimed.  "I've got some spot remover in the garage."  So off he went, headed for the garage.  Now here's the thing...  Tommy, never really a fan of Puccini, took this opportunity to scoot through the door just as Mr. human went through, just to escape the noise.  Out of habit, as Mr. human stepped into the garage, he automatically pushed the button to open the big garage door to the outside, so just as La Boheme was blasting through the kitchen, Tommy saw this as his opportunity to just keep running.

So you see, although this started out as a story about spot remover, it ended up being a tale about a terrier discovering a candy bar and ultimately throwing up on the bedroom carpet. 

 

 

The End