Mongo and Mushrooms

The winter rains had finally returned to Seattle. There would still be some very nice weather in the fall season, but the long dry summer had ended.

With just a sprinkle of water, the grass had started to green up. As Mongo, Spork, and Dad walked down the alley to the school yard, Mongo began rustling the grass and taking big bites of the new green blades. Dad remarked to himself that some little mushrooms had even popped up with just one night’s rain.

Mongo was so excited at the appearance of fresh grass, he gobbled up big mouthfuls of greenery all the way to the school.

When the crew got home, Dad fed the doggies, and fired up his coffee machine. Then Dad went to the door and asked “Who wants to get the paper?”

Spork raced over, followed by Mongo at a much more leisurely pace. Normally, Mongo bolts past Spork to the door, because getting the paper is another chance for a doggie treat, and Mongo doesn’t miss many opportunities.

Dad let the dogs out the front door, and Spork raced up the hill and into the bushes to hunt for squirrels. Mongo, on the other hand, began to wander around the lower part of the yard, with no particular destination.

“Mongo! Buddy! Paper!”

Mongo looked toward Dad but seemed to see right through him.

“C’mon buddy! Paper!”

Mongo stared blankly at Dad for a minute, and then went back to wandering aimlessly around the yard.

“Paper! Buddy? Paper!” Finally Dad walked out and started up the stairs. Mongo finally looked up the stairs, and loped up to grab the paper. They walked back into the house together, and then Mongo lost focus again. He dropped the paper before they even reached the kitchen and the treat jar. Mongo wandered off to flop on his blanket in the living room.

“No treats for that poor performance Buddy. Here you go Spork, you get your ‘return to the house’ treat.”

When Mongo saw Dad flip a biscuit to Spork, he lumbered off of his mat, and walked with a little bit of a drunken gate into the kitchen. Dad gave him a biscuit.

Just then Drewbie came up from the cave. He walked into the kitchen, and looked down at Mongo.

“Mongo, what’s up buddy?” Drewbie turned to Dad. “Why is he so wobbly. Now he’s staring at his feet like ‘Dude, have you ever really looked at your paws? I mean REALLY looked at your paws?'”

Suddenly Dad put two and two together. “Little mushrooms popped up overnight from the rain. I think he may have eaten one.”

Drewbie turned back to Mongo. “Are you ‘shrooming’ buddy? Aww, poor guy.”

Dad looked over at Drewbie, “Well let’s keep an eye on him. If he doesn’t perk up soon, it’s back to the vet. With all the stuff that dog eats, thank heaven for pet insurance.”

Mongo looked back at his feet, as if he couldn’t quite make out what he was seeing, and then he wobbled back to his bed and laid down. By the afternoon, he was his own omnivorous self again.

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