Pete took his new five-dollar dog bone outside and trotted off toward the woods where the dirt is soft and easily dug.

"Pete!" I called after him. "Don't you bury that brand new dog bone." 

Pete turned around. 

"I wasn't going to," he said. 

"Okay," I replied, "Good."

Pete started back. Midway, he turned and bounced over to the truck. 

He crawled deep underneath. 

He dropped the five-dollar bone and backed out. 

"See," he said. 

And I did.