Scout and the Mixed-Up Arrows

Scout sat at the hallway entrance, looking from the arrow pointing left to the arrow pointing right. “That can’t both be right,” Delaney said.

Scout gave a thoughtful woof. He was the family dog, a brown-and-white fellow with floppy ears and a nose that noticed crumbs beneath chairs. Delaney had promised him a rainy-day treasure game, even though the afternoon sun was shining through the living-room window.

“The biscuit is hidden in a safe spot,” Delaney said. “Follow my paper arrows, and you’ll find it.”

Scout sniffed the left-pointing arrow. Then he sniffed the right-pointing one. They smelled mostly like paper, with a little bit of Delaney’s crayons. Neither smelled like biscuit.

Delaney crouched beside him. “The trail started here. First, we go to a landmark. Can you guess which one?”

Scout trotted down the hallway. The first arrow lay near the coat hooks, but it pointed back toward the entrance. The next arrow pointed toward the living room. Scout looked at Delaney as if to ask whether the arrows had been practicing silly tricks.

They stepped into the living room. A small breeze slipped through the open window. It lifted the corner of a paper arrow and scooted it across the rug.

“Ah,” said Delaney. “The breeze must have turned them around!”

Scout gave the moving paper a polite sniff. It scooted again, and he followed it until it stopped beside a table leg.

“Is that our next clue?” Delaney asked. “Or is the clue hiding by the book basket? Or under the little round table?”

Scout sniffed the table leg, then the basket. He sneezed at a dusty book and made Delaney giggle.

The arrow beside the table pointed toward the hallway, even though the trail was supposed to lead farther into the living room. Scout’s ears tipped forward. He could smell something faint and buttery, but it seemed to come from more than one direction.

Delaney studied the confusing papers. “Maybe we need to find the place where one arrow got caught.”

Scout looked toward the sunny window seat. A cushion there had a funny little paper corner poking out. Could that be the landmark they needed next?

Scout padded to the window seat. A paper arrow was wedged against the cushion, its point aimed straight at the wall. Scout sniffed the cushion, then the paper. A warm breeze from the open window stirred the arrow’s loose end.

“Found one!” Delaney said. She tugged it free. “And now I know what we can do. We shouldn’t trust the arrows all by themselves. We can put each one beside something we know.”

Scout wagged his tail. The cushion was a good landmark. So was the book basket, the round table, and the coat hooks in the hallway.

Delaney placed the window-seat arrow beside the cushion and turned it toward the book basket. “Now, Scout, where would you look next? The basket or the hallway?”

Scout chose the basket. He sniffed around it, then found another arrow tucked under its edge. Delaney set it beside the basket and pointed it toward the round table.

Scout went to the table. He checked the legs one by one. At the third leg, he paused and sneezed again. Delaney laughed. “That’s a very dusty clue!”

The next arrow had slid beneath the rug’s corner. Delaney lifted the rug, and Scout carefully sniffed the paper. Delaney placed it beside the table and turned it toward the coat hooks in the hallway.

At the hooks, Scout found one more arrow lying on the floor. Delaney placed it beside the hooks. Its point aimed straight at the little bench.

“Which landmark comes after the hooks?” Delaney asked. “The doorway, or the little bench?”

Scout followed the arrow to the bench. His nose twitched. There it was again—that buttery smell, clearer now. He checked beneath the bench. No biscuit. He checked beside it. No biscuit.

Then he noticed a small cloth bag resting on the bench. He sniffed once, twice, and sat down neatly.

Delaney lifted the flap. Inside lay the biscuit, safe and whole. “You found it!”

Scout’s tail thumped the floor. Delaney broke the biscuit into two small pieces, giving Scout the dog-sized share and keeping a crumb for herself. Scout crunched happily. The mixed-up arrows had not spoiled the game after all. They had helped Delaney discover a better way to make a trail.

After the biscuit was gone, Delaney gathered the paper arrows into a tidy stack. Scout watched from the rug, his nose still giving hopeful little sniffs toward the cloth bag.

“No more biscuits tonight,” Delaney told him. “But we can make a new trail for tomorrow.”

Scout stayed nearby while Delaney tucked the used arrows into a drawer. She chose a few clean sheets of paper and drew bright blue arrows on them. This time, she set each one beside a familiar spot: the coat hooks, the book basket, the round table, and the cushion on the window seat.

Scout’s job was to wait. He folded his paws and watched Delaney move from landmark to landmark. When she finished, she hid a treat in the safe spot and returned to Scout.

“Ready to play?” she asked.

Scout stood up, but Delaney held up one finger. “Tomorrow, buddy. This trail is for tomorrow.”

Scout sat again. Waiting was not as exciting as sniffing, but he was good at it. Delaney gave him a gentle pat between the ears.

They left the new trail in place, with the arrows resting beside their landmarks so the breeze could not send them wandering. At the window seat, Delaney tucked one last arrow beside the cushion. Its point showed the way from the sunlit seat toward the book basket.

“Tomorrow, you can tell me where to go,” she said.

Scout gave a sleepy-sounding woof. Delaney switched off the living-room lamp, and together they walked down the hallway. Scout’s paws made quiet taps on the floor. At his bed, he turned around once, then settled with his chin on his paws.

Delaney leaned down. “Good night, brave treasure finder.”

Scout blinked slowly. The biscuit hunt was finished, the arrows were waiting in their places, and the house was quiet around him. He let out one contented sigh as Delaney headed to bed, already saving tomorrow’s trail for the morning.