My arm
was hanging out the window, the radio was booming, and Craphound said "Turn
around! Turn around, now, Jerry, now, turn around!"
When Craphound gets that excited, it's a sign that he's spotted a rich vein. I
checked the side-mirror quickly, pounded the brakes and spun around. The
transmission creaked, the wheels squealed, and then we were creeping along the
way we'd come.
"There," Craphound said, gesturing with his long, skinny arm. I saw it. A wooden
A-frame real-estate sign, a piece of hand-lettered cardboard stuck overtop of
the realtor's name:
EAST MUSKOKA VOLUNTEER FIRE-DEPT
LADIES AUXILIARY RUMMAGE SALE
SAT 25 JUNE
"Hoo-eee!" I hollered, and spun the truck onto the dirt road. I gunned the
engine as we cruised along the tree-lined road, trusting Craphound to spot any
deer, signs, or hikers in time to avert disaster. The sky was a perfect blue and
the smells of summer were all around us. I snapped off the radio and listened to
the wind rushing through the truck. Ontario is _beautiful_ in the summer.
"There!" Craphound shouted. I hit the turn-off and down-shifted and then we were
back on a paved road.
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