Chapter Three: We Capture the Box
Your ordinary dogs have no procedures or responses for Mysterious Red Box situations. I mean, to them a box is just a box, and they don’t know what to do with it.
On this outfit, we have procedures and techniques and responses for just about any situation Life can throw at us, including but not limited to Mysterious Red Boxes that fall off of strangely painted cattle trucks.
Okay. It was lying in the grass, some fifty feet north of the road. I gave Drover orders to approach it from the south, while I circled around and came in from the north. You might be interested in hearing some of the more technical aspects of the capture, so I’ll step it out for you.
Step One: Once in our positions, we went into the Stealthy Crouch Mode and began stalking toward the alleged box.
Step Two: Every third step we paused and barked a warning at the box. (A lot of dogs wouldn’t take the time to do this, but it’s very important. You never know what might be inside a box.)
Step Three: After each barst of burking, we crept forward again—burst of barking, I should say—with our auditory equipment poised to pick up any signals that might be transmitting from the box.
Step Four: At a distance of ten feet from the target, I gave the signal to Attack and Capture. We rushed forward from our respective positions, lifted our respective hind legs, and marked the box from our respective sides.
Step Five: Once marked, the box had become our possession, a trophy of war. But notice that we had done it all legal and proper, so there could be no argument about the change in ownership. We had by George marked it, and it was by George OURS.
I walked around and inspected Drover’s side. “Nice work, son. That was a direct hit.”
“Thanks, Hank. I think my aim’s getting better. I used to miss every once in a while.”
“Yes, and I remember a few occasions when you got so excited, you couldn’t fire.”
“Yeah, and I’d shoot myself in the leg about half the time.”
“You’ve made real progress, but don’t let it go to your head.”
“Oh, my aim was never that bad.”
“No, what I’m saying is, don’t start thinking that you’re a hotshot marksman and then get careless. Practice makes perfect.”
“That’s a good way to put it. ‘Practice makes perfect.’ Did you think that one up yourself?”
“Uh, yes, it’s original, but you may quote me now and then if you wish. Just don’t forget who said it first.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t do that.” He sat down and grinned. “Well, we’ve got ourselves a nice big red box. What do you reckon we ought to do with it?”
I sat down and began admiring our new possession. “I can answer that question right quick. We’ll roll it down to headquarters and set it up in our bedroom beneath the gas tanks. I’ve been thinking that we need something to liven up our bedroom.”
“Yeah, me too. It’s kind of drab.”
“It’s very drove, Drabber. The only question I have is, will a red box go with our color scheme?”
“You mean, with our gunnysacks and spills of diesel fuel?”
“Exactly, and with the silver tanks and the green pigweeds and the brown dirt?”
“Gee, I don’t know about that.”
“Nor do I. We’ll just try it and see. If we don’t like it, we’ll get rid of it and try something else.”
“Good idea. But it’s a pretty big box. You think we can roll it all the way to the gas tanks?”
I gave him a sideward glance and smiled. “You saw what we did to those giant cattle trucks, didn’t you? Do you suppose a box will cause us any trouble?”
“Well, I don’t know. Are you sure those were cattle trucks?”
“Of course they were cattle trucks. What other kinds of trucks would pass down this road?”
“I don’t know, Hank, but they were all painted up—kind of like circus trucks or something.”
“Don’t be absurd. There are no circuses around here, hence, there can be no circus trucks. All that stuff painted on the sides was probably a clever disguise to keep us from barking at the trucks. But as you noticed, it didn’t work.”
“Sure didn’t. I wasn’t scared even a little bit.”
“Just another cheap trick, Drover. Well, let’s get this thing rolled down to . . .”
That box was made out of three-quarter-inch plywood, and it was heavier than you might have thought.
“On second thought, Drover, I don’t think we need a big red box in our bedroom.”
“Yeah,” he stopped pushing on the box and caught his breath, “’cause we can’t even budge it.”
“That’s correct, and budgets are crucial to ranch management. Let’s leave her right where she lays.”
“I’m for that. Hey, look. There’s something written on the side of the box.”
I moved around to the east side of the box and studied the large white letters. “Hmmm. You’re right. Let’s see if I can make it out.”
WARNING! MONKEY!
DO NOT OPEN THIS BOX!
Drover was waiting for my translation. “What does it say, Hank? Can you read it?”
“Very interesting, Drover. In fact, VERY interesting. I’ve broken the code and translated the secret message.”
“What does it say?”
“Give me a second to work it all out.” I began pacing back and forth in front of the box, my mind moving outward into the realm of deepest concentration. “All right, I think I’ve got it. Drover, there’s something inside this box that monkeys are not allowed to see.”
“No foolin’?”
“That’s correct. What tipped me off was the first line, which contains a warning to all monkeys. The only question remaining is, what could be hidden inside that monkeys are not allowed to have?”
“Well, let’s see. Bananas?”
“Possibly so. Or peanuts? Or how about monkey wrenches? Yes, that’s what it is. Drover, we have intercepted an illegal shipment of monkey wrenches!”
“You’d think they’d want monkeys to have monkey wrenches, wouldn’t you?”
“Don’t ever fall for the obvious, Drover. These people are clever beyond your wildest dreams. At this point we don’t know why they want to keep the monkeys away from the monkey wrenches, but we have enough evidence to build a case. Now we must rush down to the house and sound the alarm.”
“Or I guess we could open up the box and look inside. See, there’s a wooden peg holding the hasp shut.”
I turned to the runt and gave him a glare.
“Hasp?”
“Yeah. The hasp is the thing that locks the door.”
“Where did you learn that word?”
“Oh, I don’t know, just picked it up somewhere.”
“Well, I’ve never heard it before, and I don’t appreciate you using big words around me.”
“Oh, it’s not so big, just a four-letter word.”
“Exactly my point, and I’ve warned you about using four-letter words on the job. In security work, we have an image to protect, and nothing destroys an image faster than the casual, careless, indiscriminate use of four-letter words. Am I making myself clear?”
“Yeah.”
“There’s another four-letter word! Watch your step, Drover, before I have to take corrective measures.”
“Okay.”
“That’s my last word on four-letter words.”
“Good.”
“Now, to the house. I think Sally May will want to know that we’ve discovered an illegal shipment of monkey wrenches in the horse pasture. Come on, let’s fly!”
And with that, we made a dash back to headquarters to alert the house.