Hash's company mascot is a tortoise named "Hemiki" that crawls around our feet on a hot day but normally lies inert under a heat lamp, occasionally moving to consume fresh lettuce and greens. Hemiki doesn't wear a diaper so obviously someone needs to follow it around with a wash cloth a couple times a week. Our intern, "Stevie," finds Hemiki's toiletry habits disgusting, and often comments on "Hemiki droppings." Stevie is a bit anal retentive.

Stevie told me that his parents were going on vacation for a week and could he bring his dog to my house while they were gone. (Stevie is staying with us for the summer.)

"Sure," I said. "I have a big house. I'm sure Buddy (our own dog) would like the company."

Gwynne and I went out Saturday evening and when we came back home, Buddy was outside.

"Buddy won't come back in the house," Gwynne said.

"Com'on, Buddy. Com'on inside," I coached Buddy as we walked through the front door.

Apparently Stevie had arrived early (he usually comes in on Monday.) "Hello," said Stevie.

"Uh...," I said. Normally, I'm more eloquent with my greetings but for the moment, surprise was stunning my vocal cords.

"So, uh...," I said. "Yeah... You have your dog, huh, Stevie?"

"Yeah," Stevie said proudly. "His name's 'Sage'."

"He... Ah... Looks like a nice dog... Uh... He is a nice dog, isn't he, Stevie?"

"Oh, yeah. Sage is a wonderful, kind dog. I've had him since I was 13."

"Uh... How much does Sage weigh, Stevie?"

"Oh, he's old and has lost some weight. I think he's down to 220."

"He looks bigger than that," I commented. "Maybe it's his head... His head is larger than Buddy."

Stevie smiled.

“Are you going to have a problem with Sage running off? We don’t have a fenced yard?” I asked.

“Oh, no,” Stevie replied. “Sage is a house dog.”

Apparently Sage also has seizures but Stevie advised me not to worry about it if I saw him collapse, then he took Sage up to his room on the second floor. We could hear the plop, plop, plop of Sage’s footsteps as he walked up the stairs.

For the week that Sage stayed with us, he laid under the table in the programming room, therefore there wasn’t a lot of space for anyone to put their feet. I was glad I didn’t sit on that side of the table because it smelled like wet dog – really bad, right under Steve Sappington’s spot. Also, huge loops of black drool hang from Sage’s mouth which he wiped on the walls, carpet, and anyone’s leg who’s convenient. Steve Sappington quit wearing shorts during that week.

Stevie is vegetarian but Sage eats ground chuck and rice that Stevie cooks up fresh for him everyday. When Jason smelled Sage’s meal cooking, he asked, “What’s for lunch? It smells wonderful.” When Jason found out that the huge pot of food was for Sage, he commented, “that dog eats way better than I do.” Sage wouldn’t eat while he was at my house unless Stevie was hand-feeding him slices of pizza. Stevie would say, “leave some pizza for Sage.” So, of the pizza we were having for lunch, Sage would get half and we’d all share the rest.

There are mysteries in life that cannot be explained except through supernatural forces… For instance, there was a small box in my mailbox. It was an advertising gimmick of some kind. I opened it up to find tissue paper with dog paw prints on it and a business card with a color picture of dog on it. The dog was an English Mastiff – just like Sage! But it gets eerier… Inside the tissue paper was a bar of soap. This was dog soap swag! With a picture of a dog that looked just like Stevie’s! How weird is that?!

I took the swag up to Stevie and gave it to him in front of everyone. “This must be for you, Stevie.”

When everyone saw what was in the box – they were all mystified by the coincidence. Steve Sappington doesn’t believe in coincidences. He asked, “Stevie, how did God know you were staying at Martin’s house for the summer?”

It's a good thing Sage doesn't know that turtle meat tastes like prime cut sirloin.

(Sage looks like a big ol' cutey-pie.)

Thanks... Sage was fascinated by Hemiki, but his hunting instincts are limited to teddy-bears.