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Searching for chametz is about a billion gazillion times more fun when you have a dog.
She tries to eat the feather.
She tries to eat the flashlight.
She follows the flashlight beam, trying to figure out what is this moving thing with no smell.
You don't need to hide chametz to "find," because there are dog biskits and pieces of bread hiding all over the house.
Including real proper kezayit-sized lumps of bread, because when she's shut in my bedroom on shabbat (better a miffed dog in the bedroom than a freaked-out screaming toddler at lunch) she overturns her bowl in pique and throws the contents, including the challah-roll bribes, all over the place.
Anyway, you find the dog biskits and bits of bread; you poke them out from under the furniture with your feather along with quantities of crud and dust bunnies (because you are a soferet, you have plenty of large sturdy feathers); dog sniffs the mixed crud, identifies the bits which are chametz, and eats them, nom nom nom.
Famously, anything a dog won't eat isn't chametz, so the leftovers you can push back under the furniture and pretend they don't exist. Or sweep them up and throw them out, yeah, but halakha geekery wins and you know it.
When you aren't finding bits of chametz, she goes back to trying to eat the feather.
Except if you're lying full-length on the floor on your tummy trying to squint under the furniture, in which case she climbs on top of you and sits there proudly being all "this is a good place to sit! stay there! ooh, a dog biskit! don't mind if I do!"
She tries to eat the feather.
She tries to eat the flashlight.
She follows the flashlight beam, trying to figure out what is this moving thing with no smell.
You don't need to hide chametz to "find," because there are dog biskits and pieces of bread hiding all over the house.
Including real proper kezayit-sized lumps of bread, because when she's shut in my bedroom on shabbat (better a miffed dog in the bedroom than a freaked-out screaming toddler at lunch) she overturns her bowl in pique and throws the contents, including the challah-roll bribes, all over the place.
Anyway, you find the dog biskits and bits of bread; you poke them out from under the furniture with your feather along with quantities of crud and dust bunnies (because you are a soferet, you have plenty of large sturdy feathers); dog sniffs the mixed crud, identifies the bits which are chametz, and eats them, nom nom nom.
Famously, anything a dog won't eat isn't chametz, so the leftovers you can push back under the furniture and pretend they don't exist. Or sweep them up and throw them out, yeah, but halakha geekery wins and you know it.
When you aren't finding bits of chametz, she goes back to trying to eat the feather.
Except if you're lying full-length on the floor on your tummy trying to squint under the furniture, in which case she climbs on top of you and sits there proudly being all "this is a good place to sit! stay there! ooh, a dog biskit! don't mind if I do!"