Chapter 36

Columbo looks as if he only has two thoughts in his head, but that isn’t true. He has more going on than he’s given credit for. Yes, his obsession with his red ball is something beyond his control. And the same can be said for his love of cheese.

But he is capable of thinking about the future. He can plot. He can plan.

And tonight, he is going to show this fact to the world.

At the end of the evening, when the boss leads Columbo to his crate, he willingly goes inside. He doesn’t whine and he does his best to look calm and in control.

But Columbo is a knot of agitation on the inside. He knows that there is still a wild animal in the house. He smells vermin and he is certain where the creature is hiding.

Izzy’s room holds the enemy.

And he, Columbo, will take his opponent down.

Now, hours later, the house is finally quiet.

Do they really think that he hasn’t watched them close the crate every night for over a year?

Columbo turns his skull to the side, opens his mouth wide, and hooks his jaw over the metal door. He then jerks his head up and the latch pops. Easy-peasy-squeezy-measy.

Columbo pushes with his right front paw and he is out. He stops. He shuts his eyes. He must exercise real self-control, because there is a loaf of bread on the kitchen counter and a box of stale crackers also within reach. It would be easy to get these things.

But he is on a mission and that means the food will have to wait. Something bigger clouds his obsessive-compulsive brain: the wild creature.

He knows it’s a possum.

And now this possum has made a big, big, big mistake. It’s in his territory. It’s on his playing field.

It’s about to meet the enemy.

The door to Izzy’s room is closed, but that isn’t a problem either. There is no lock on this door. The knob is nothing that a large mouth and a good grip can’t handle. Grabbing the red ball in the yard isn’t just fun and games. His lips are rubbery and his grip is firm because of practicing on that beautiful red round object.

He clamps down. He thinks of the red ball. He turns his head.

And he is in.

He sees Izzy in her bed. Asleep. The room smells of grapes and cheese and sesame crackers. It’s a distraction. There may be a few crumbs from those crackers and maybe a bit of the cheese. The cheese. The cheese. Who cares about a grape? It is nothing to him. But the cheese. The cheese stands alone. Every dog knows that.

Move on.

Move on.

Focus.

Block the image of the smudge of cheese and the crispy cracker crumbs. Don’t think about the bread on the counter. Forget the red ball out on the grass waiting.

Concentrate on the enemy.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Do it again.

The room smells of a wild creature!

He holds his nose high. The scent is everywhere. It comes off the bed and the floor. The bureau smells, and the closet positively reeks of possum. But the strongest odor is unmistakably coming from the bathroom.

The door is closed. He goes forth. He moves slowly. But then another sense is activated. Another alarm sounds in the brain. He doesn’t just smell the wild creature now.

He hears the animal!

Movement. Squeaks and squeals of the enemy. More than one!

Right here.

Right now.

Every muscle in his body is activated with one goal in mind.

ATTACK!