Everything? Really? That was kind of silly.

“You don’t believe me, do you?” Yogi said, grinning at me. What could I say? No. I didn’t believe him. Yogi turned around in his seat and said, “G, are these boys named Logan and Bart?” 

G growled. “How about Lenny and Bruce?” G growled again. “G, are these boys Lumpy and Bones?” G barked twice and wagged her tail ferociously.

“How does she know our names? We didn’t even tell her!” Bones was so excited he was bouncing on the bench seat.

“She just listens to the two of you talk,” Yogi explained. “That’s how she learns.” 

Listens and learns? C’mon. I mean, I know Bones and I had just traveled back forty years and all that, but still, I couldn’t believe that a dog would actually be able to hear and communicate like that. I was about to say so, but decided I had enough on my plate to deal with besides arguing about a junkyard dog, so instead I rolled down my window and stared at a line of baby maple trees whizzing by.

Why did those trees look so familiar? 

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