“So, what did you find?”, Matt asked, his eyes twinkling madly. “Any news on Brushdog? You know how fickle anonymous tumblr question askers can be. I can’t keep them waiting much longer.”
“Cool your jets”, I responded coolly. “The case is closed.”
“Thank Brushdog! What did you find out? What is Brushdog?”
“Brushdog is an inside joke.” I saw the twinkle in his eye grow confused. “Long ago, when Fairkid had deity elections, Brushdog was a top contender. He was big among the class of ‘94. Then, once all the people who had been around in ‘94 had graduated, the class of ‘99 made it their inside joke, complete with graffiti. They also spent a lot of time speculating what the original Brushdog looked liked (a dog with brushes? A dog on a brush?) after they left, it became mysterious once again. Until now. Brushdog was bought at a rummage sale, toots. It’s just a big inside joke.”
Matt gasped in surprise.
Then I saw him deflate, knowing that the thrill of the mystery was forever lost. I pitied him a little. When you’ve solved as many cases as I have, it’s a feeling you know too well.
“Thank you for all your help”, he said resolutely. “I think tumblr will be satisfied. Take these for your trouble.” He passed me 4 steaming brussel sprouts over the table. I was back on top.
As he started to leave, I called out to him. “Remember, if you ever have any more mysteries, just come by my office. Ask for Sarah Johnson: Fairkid History Private Eye.”
He looked back at me, and walked out without a word.
Then, a shadowy figure appeared outside my cardboard box office. The night was deed silent; what could this strange silhouette possibly be? It looked like an object, an animal… and something more. Then I realized: Brushdog. In its shadowy shape, you couldn’t tell where the brush ended and the dog began. I was awestruck. It was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. With a nod of its head, it took off into the night, its gold plating gleaming in the moonlight. All I knew was, I was now a part of something much bigger than myself. We still don’t know what the original Brushdog was from the rummage sale, but that’s all part of the beauty. The cycle of Brushdog; of Fairkid; of life on this funny planet we call home. We might never know the true meaning of Brushdog, if there even is one. But we do know one thing: Brushdog will always be a part of us all.
(part 4 courtesy of Matt Horowitz)