Me, as a Hunting Dog

What? No pictures will upload?
I can't believe it!
Imagine, then, my determined attack on a sturdy log pile I discovered today.
Picture the noble dog running free through the woods. Note the handsome black and white coat. Observe the sincere eyes, the busy nose.
Then picture a moldy stack of logs. Naturally I gave it a good sniff - and boy, was there ever a sweet scent there!
Then something squeaked. Or squealed.
Inside the pile.
I'm telling you it drove me wild! As it would any true-blue real-for-sure Hunting Dog.
I spent about an hour or so digging, shoving, clambering over sticks, sniffing - and dodging the Servant. She just didn't understand the importance of getting to the something that squeaked. Something about having to be somewhere. Where could possibly be more interesting?
I kept having to climb around to the other side of the pile.
Sadly she caught up with me before I got to the Squeaky (or possibly Squealy) Something.
But I'll be back tomorrow.
I'll keep you posted.