The Quest fort the Great White Quail. John R. Erickson

      I had never dreamed that chewing plastic could be such an exciting experience, but it was, and all at once Drover didn’t seem nearly as crazy as I’d thought.

      I chewed it to smithereens and wanted more . . . more plastic! Yes, plastic. Who needs bones in a world full of nice chewy plastic? Bones can wear down your teeth and cause bone particles to collect in your estomagus, but plastic . . . it doesn’t splinterize and poke your gums. Further­more, since you don’t swallow it, all the various pieces remain outside the bodily so-forth.

      See, plastic was invented for DOGS. Maybe you didn’t know that. Maybe I didn’t know it either, but after conducting this first experiment with a plastic substance, it became very clear to me that someone out there had invented plastic so that dogs could chew it.

      Why not? For thousands of years, dogs have been man’s best friend. We’ve liked our people when they were unlikable, loved them when they were unlovable, forgiven them when they were unforgivable. We’ve licked their ears when we really wanted ice cream, kept them warm on cold winter nights, laughed at their stale jokes, and listened to their corny songs about Old Paint and Dunny.

      Don’t we deserve something special? Yes, of course we do, and that special something is PLASTIC.

      Okay, there’s one little problem with plastic. Once chewed and re-chewed, it leaves a mess, but what’s a little mess in the broader context of history? This world is a big place. Put the world on one side and a small deposit of shredded plastic on the other, and you can see right away that shredded plastic is no big deal. It’s the kind of thing our people ought to ignore, right?

      I’m glad you understand, because . . . well, once I had chewed up the truck, I found myself . . . uh . . . wishing to find other objects made of plastic, shall we say.

      I headed toward the house. As I was passing the front of the machine shed, I happened to notice the head of a small whitish dog peering out the crack between the two sliding doors. When I appeared on the scenery, the head vanished inside.

      I stopped and stuck my head inside the door. “Drover? Come out. I know you’re in there.”

      A moment later, he stepped out of the barn, and right away I picked up an important clue. He had twisted his body into the shape of a horseshoe and was flashing a goony smile. Maybe you’ve never seen such odd behavior in a dog, but I have. Drover does it fairly often, and it’s a sign that he’s feeling guilty about something.

      “Why are you doing that?”

      “Doing what?”

      “You’re moving around like . . . I don’t know what. Like a donut that’s had a bite taken out of it. Normal dogs walk in a straight line, Drover. You’re walking like a crab.”

      “I’ll be derned. I’ve never even seen a crab.”

      “Nevertheless, you’re walking like a beached crab.”

      “I tried to eat a crawdad one time, but it bit me on the nose.”

      “Answer my question.”

      “I forgot. What did you ask?”

      I stuck my nose into his face. “Why are you walking in that ridiculous manner? To tell you the truth, Drover, it embarrasses me to see you doing that.”

      His grin faded. “Well, I guess I’m feeling . . .”

      “Yes? Yes? Finish your sentence. I’m a busy dog.”

      “I guess I’m feeling . . . guilty.”

      I gave him a triumphant smile. “Aha! I knew it. Drover, you should never try to conceal anything from me. I can read your thoughts like a duck out of water.” I began pacing in front of him. “Okay, soldier, out with it. What have you done this time?”

      “Well . . . what you said about Alfred’s toy truck made me feel pretty bad.”

      “We’ve already discussed this. Why are you still brooding about it?”

      “I started feeling this terrible burden of guilt, so I came up to the machine shed to hide. But you caught me.”

      “Are you sure you haven’t done something else? Look deeper into the darkness of your Inner Bean.”

      “No, it was the truck. It made me feel like a rat, messing up a kid’s toy.”

      “Drover, that doesn’t make sense. If you felt like a rat, why did you walk like a crab? Crabs and rats are not the same; therefore, they are very different.”

      “What’s the difference?”

      “Crabs bite.”

      “So do rats.”

      “That’s exactly my point. They’re completely different. Now, why are you still brooding over the toy truck?”

      He stared at the ground. “Well, Alfred’s out in the yard, looking for it. I thought you took it back.”

      “Huh? Well, of course I took it back.”

      “You’ve got something in your teeth.”

      “I beg your pardon?”

      “I said, you’ve got something red in your teeth.”

      “Red? Don’t be absurd.” I whirled away from him and began scrubbing my teeth. “It must be some, uh, fragments of red meat.”

      “It looks kind of like plastic.”

      “It’s red meat, Drover.”

      “I’ll be derned. Where’d you get red meat?”

      “Never mind where I got it.”

      “Wait. Maybe some of the plastic came off the truck when you were carrying it back to the gate.”

      I beamed him a pleasant smile. “There we go! Of course. Ha ha. Why didn’t I think of that?”

      “It’s still there.”

      I scrubbed harder on my teeth. “How does it look now?”

      He squinted his eyes. “You got it that time.”

      “Good, good. We certainly don’t want to go around with dirty teeth, do we? Ha ha. No siree. Listen, how’s your Chewing Disorder?”

      He beamed a silly grin. “You know, it’s much better. Those Words of Healing really helped.”

      “Great. Well, stick with the routine, son, and don’t forget to brush your teeth.” I lifted one ear and heard voices down at the house. “So Alfred can’t find his truck, huh? I left it right there by the gate. Tell you what, I’ll trot down there and help him out.” I gave Drover a secret wink. “Kids.”

      “What’s wrong with your eye?”

      “What?”

      “You’ve got a twitch in your eye.”

      I gave him a withering glare. “Nothing’s wrong with my eye. I was giving you a secret wink so that we could share a little laugh about how kids are always misplacing their toys.”

      “Oh. Hee hee. Yeah, that was a good one.”

      “Just skip it, Drover, I’m sorry I mentioned it. Good-bye. I’m off to help a child in distress.”

      And with that, I left the dunce and went streaking down to the yard gate to, uh, help