Hey dog, I can see you on the spycam!

There are great mysteries to be solved in this small world: Is there anything prehistoric swimming around in Loch Ness? What size shoe does Bigfoot wear? Why does a calendar reminder keep popping up on my computer telling me to drain the hot water heater tank? (Yeah, like I’m going to do that!) And the biggest of all: What does your dog do when you’re not home?

Turns out the last one I’ve finally solved. Glory be!

It’s thanks to the proliferation of these tiny home cameras you can install for security purposes, or keeping up with your animals. My brother calls it the “doggie spycam.”

Mind you, I’m not spying on my dog. It’s setup more for home security. And if the dog would just stay in her bed, and not stroll through the camera’s frame, I wouldn’t know anything about it. But the minute she does, a little alert pops up on my phone.

Like the one I got the other day. Several of them. While I was sitting in a rather important meeting. I got nervous, figured that one of the bike gangs from a bunch of 1980s movies I used to fear had finally worked their way east to my house. No doubt they were ransacking and pillaging my stuff. So, I stealthily snuck my phone under the table, clicked on the app and observed a brown, four-legged silhouette staring out the window while … wait a minute … STANDING ON THE BACK OF THE LEATHER CHAIR!!!!

That’s no bike gang!

I think I cursed out loud in the meeting, and got awkward stares. “Biker gang robbing my house,” I remarked. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of it later.”

But I was steaming inside. Darn critter! She knows better. She looked like a lone wolf perched high atop a mountain, standing brave and proud and strong as she peered into the distance, looking to see … wait a minute … what was so important that she needed to be up there looking at? The mail lady?

The camera timed out, and I got a new alert a few minutes later. Now she had curled up in the leather chair. Danger gone. Chair comfortable.

Little varmint’s game was up. Whenever we come home, she’s back in her bed, seemingly resting soundly. Big stretch. “Oh, did you just get home? I’ve been sleeping here the whole time.”

Sure you have, scoundrel.

She doesn’t get up and move around a lot while we’re gone. Sometimes for a drink of water. But I’ve noticed a few instances her stopping by the leather chair to ponder it. Really mull it over. One time I swear I saw her flip a coin and then mosey back to her bed. Guess it was tails.

This day the temptation much have been too much. Whatever it was outside too intriguing. I like to think she was protecting the house from up there. Watching out for that biker gang from the best vantage point – one that would give her the jump on anyone who bust through the front door.

Or maybe she’s just playing it up for the camera. And trying to keep a little mystery in the world.

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