Dig, Dig, Dig!

Tom and his big dog, Biscuit, dig together in the damp yard while chanting and barking, sending clods of dirt flying. When Tom's shovel strikes hard wood, they uncover a weathered box buried among the roots. Inside is an old rubber bone, and its familiar smell brings Tom a vivid memory of Biscuit's happy tail thumping. Their discovery shows how a simple buried object can hold a treasured memory.

Tom had a big dog named Biscuit. Whenever Tom stepped outside, Biscuit's tail thumped the porch floorboards like a heavy drum.

Tom picked up his shovel with the jagged notch in the rusty blade. "Come on, Biscuit," Tom said. "Let's dig!" They trotted out across the damp grass to the yard.

Tom shoved the notched blade into the wet earth. Squelch! A cold lump of soil flew up and landed smack on his nose. "Dig, dig, dig!" Tom chanted.

Biscuit dug too, front paws churning up dark clods of dirt. One clod hit Tom's rubber boot with a wet thud. "Dig, dig, dig!" Tom sang, and Biscuit gave a sharp bark.

They scraped and scraped until the hole reached Tom's knees. Tom wiped damp dirt across his cheek with his sleeve, planted his boots firmly, and sang, "Dig, dig, dig!"

Clink! The jagged notch of the shovel struck hard wood. "Biscuit, look!" Tom whispered, kneeling down to brush cold, gritty dirt away from a weathered corner.

Tom tugged with both hands until the wooden box popped free from the roots. "What's inside?" Tom asked. Biscuit sniffed the rusty latch, wrinkled his nose, and sneezed.

Tom unhooked the latch and pushed the lid back. Inside lay an old rubber bone, chewed flat and smelling of sweet clover. Biscuit's tail thumped the porch floorboards of Tom's memory, drumming against the grass in quick, steady beats.