I was home alone. I was bored. And Sister Martian’s backpack was so tempting…
At first, I was enchanted by the smell. It was a delightful blend of a half-eaten turkey sandwich and the zing of soda. The backpack was unzipped, and I figured that it was my responsibility as Sheriff Bluepaw and the Assistant Protector of Bagels Everywhere to investigate.
As I discovered, backpacks of teenagers are treasure troves for basset hounds. Within seconds I had uncovered a blue rectangle with a screen and lots of buttons (which I later learned was called a “cal-Q-later”), as well as a few sheets of paper with scribbles all over them. I gnawed on the cal-Q-later for a while, but soon realized that the paper with scribbles was much tastier and I demolished that instead. I finished off my snack with the remains of the turkey sandwich that I found rotting beneath some books.
For some reason, Sister Martian was pretty irritated with me that evening. She was up really late making funny-looking scribbles on a piece of paper. (Personally, I think she would have been better off getting some beauty rest, an activity that I have found quite rewarding.) And you won’t believe this: even though investigating her backpack had been my duty as a loyal basset hound, she was upset with me for eating something that I have never heard of- an “essay-due-tomorrow!”