Those hot afternoons, sitting in the shade of the garage with the door up, was part of our life for several years. Our son, always willing to work hard, got a job as a paper boy. The temps might have been 110 degrees in that shade, but the afternoon edition had to be delivered.
Our dog, Mo, never one to miss any action, was quite willing to stand guard as the papers were being folded. He had an ulterior motive. If he fetched the paper and brought it into the house, he was given a treat.
The only problem was preventing him from fetching the papers awaiting their bike ride to the subscribers. He learned to wait patiently. Usually. I guess he wanted us to view him as a diligent worker!
Then came the days when our family would play "Steal the Bacon" (some of you may call it "Capture the Flag") in the front yard. We tried a rolled-up newspaper as the bacon. Mo kept stealing it and running to the front door for his reward. We had to substitute Pringles cans.
Mo was will us for seventeen years. He looked funny -- like a black Lab whose legs had been cut off at the knees. But he had a great personality, was smart as a whip and fetched the paper almost his entire life.
Treats were his little luxury.
He was ours.