Lunch Run

This afternoon I stopped at A&W to pick up lunch for the crew. Three burgers, three fries, and a three-pack of chicken strips as a treat for my two trusty truck companions.

I fed them the chicken strips as they barked and lunged through the windows at every passing vehicle. One more stop to make - the bank. No line up and I was in and out.

As I got in, the truck was strangely silent. Good, I thought, they're resting. I chatted to them, as is my wont, but they didn't look up at me adoringly, like I was the smartest person in the world, like they usually do. As a matter of fact, they refused to look at me at all. Trucks passed; they didn't yelp and lunge. Wierd, I thought to myself. Maybe they've finally seen me for who I really am... 

Getting ready to pull onto the highway I checked the order. Three burgers, but only two fries. I called A&W and explained the situation. She remembered the order and was super apologetic. She was sure she had put in three fries; but because of the chicken strip bag, she had had to pack the bag a little differently than her norm and so maybe she had accidentally left one fries bag out. She offered a gift card or a bag of fries next time I was in town. She apologised again. 

Crossing the river, I thought the back-seat dog looked uncomfortable, though he turned away from me when I questioned him. I noticed he was sitting on a leather satchel that must have moved over while we went around a corner.

When it was safe I pulled off the road into a clearing, got out and opened the back door. Earl Grey planted his front feet on the satchel. I told him to move —which he did reluctantly — and I lifted the satchel out of the way.

Underneath it was a torn brown paper bag with a couple of squished French fries. I glared at Grey and demanded an explanation. He looked away. I went around to the passenger side of the truck and told Musket to sit up. He slowly  complied, not meeting my eye. More salty, crispy evidence on the seat

I got back into the truck and started the engine again. It was a long, silent ride back to the ranch. The only words spoken belonged to the phone call I had to make:

"Hello, is this the server to whom I talked about the missing fries? I found them..."

"Oh, great! Had they fallen down the side of the bag?"

“No — they were in the back seat of the truck."

" How did they get —"

[In unison] :"THE DOGS!"

I tell you, just because crow might be Beyond Meat® doesn't make it taste any better to eat...