top of page
  • Writer's picturePatty Kramer

Theft of the Yellow Fellow Chapter Eight

Suspect #6 Noisy AKA Mr. Green

Noisy was the easiest of all six suspects to figure out why he made a perfect whodunit. That boy had a one-track mind that was interested only in war battles with Whiny’s collection of WWII Army men. If he stole Banana Dog, you could be sure he’d have him hollowed out in three one hundreds of a time zone and be using him to cross the Nile River. I’m not sure that the Nile River was actually a part of WWII, but it’s the only river name I know from watching the National Geographic show on the black box.

Noisy came trotting into the dining room on that fateful where the heck did Banana Dog go Day dressed up like a salesman pedaling iron themselves shirts at a ladies tea party. He had on matching suit coat, pants, vest and tie, all of it shiny like the top of the water in the bowl on the back porch when the sun reflects its bright light and nearly blinds me when I try to get a drink.

Atop his head was a tweed cap and he, too, had a cigar that you could puff on that made the end light up like it was on fire. He looked so spiffy I might have confused him with the actor on the television show who stood up and said over and over again, “I object, Your Honor.” Except for one little tell-all thing that pointed out exactly who was standing before us all decked out in the shiny costume: strapped to his left arm was a hand grenade. Noisy AKA Mr. Green was ready for battle all the time.

At lunch that day there was something about Mr. Green that had bothered me when he sat himself down and began to devour the cheesy food that Whiny had cooked in the hot box. His scent was off. He didn’t smell 187,000 percent like Noisy usually did when he’d been outside playing or upstairs digging through the dusty toy boxes looking for battlefield armaments.

I’d stopped pinching Banana Dog so he’d squeal like a pig long enough to have me a good sniff and had concluded that Noisy aka Mr. Green smelled like he had a trick up his sleeve. You know, like he was hiding the most important Uno cards and could slip them out whenever it was his turn and when he didn’t have the right color or number on a card. In case you didn’t know, sneakiness carries a strong odor sort of like dark corners do where the vacuum cleaner never sucks the thick stuff all out. We dogs are good at sorting out smells that equal emotions.

Anyway, I’d figured Noisy would give away his secret before lunch was over because everyone knew Noisy couldn’t keep the good stuff to himself any longer than Whiny could keep quiet when the Booga-man was refusing to give me back my beloved Fred. Turning my attention back to the Banana Dog, I practiced making him squeal in little short barks like a dog was biting a pig’s butt. And even though I was pretty darn sure I kept my eye’s turned toward Mr. Green at all times, I never saw him pull a rabbit out of his cap or slide an Uno card down his sleeve. Somehow he managed to hold onto his secret during the entire lunchtime.

Now that I have a moment or two to study on the theft while Whiny has run off to meet her church ladies to discuss how to spread the word about Jesus, I think I’ll just close my eyes and see if I can recreate the last scene in my mind. Here goes; thinking, thinking, thinking.

Well, that didn’t work. Whiny is already home and all I did was sleep. Maybe if I chase my ball, and then go outside and chase Shere Khan back to his own house, my brain will engage and I’ll come up with how Noisy would have gotten Banana Dog out of the kitchen without us seeing him. Hmmm, maybe I do have it figured out.

When the six suspects had finished lunch, Noisy had offered to sack up the trash and he’d spent a considerable amount of time folding up the cheesy things boxes and stuffing them in the big bag. Beauty had already disappeared into her room and the four suspects that were left were laughing and joking and trying their best to understand what My-girl was saying in her ninety-four mile an hour cadence and I was busy nosing for crumbs underneath the table. It was probably during this time that Noisy slipped Banana Dog into the trash bag.

Once outside with the bag, and on his way to the trash cans at the county road, Noisy could have made a stop at his sandy battlefield where he decapitated and deboned, (oh, I’m just heartsick!) Banana Dog and put the cast off body parts into the trash bag. I bet if we search the battlefield from sand dune to fox hole, we will find the shell of my yellow friend painted over with camo colors and crammed full of Army men awaiting the first sign of a Nazi helmet to appear in the distance.

I could cry, but the only thing keeping me from doing so is to know that Banana Dog died for his country. He was right there in the midst of the fighting, raising the tattered flag of the United States of America when the battle was finished. Oh, what a glorious way to go!

Whiny and I must be strong when we search Noisy’s battlefield. We will wear our bravest smiles and march to and from the scene of dismemberment like true soldiers. I guess it would be rude if during our search for the remains of my bestest ever friend that I took the time to sniff around and see if Noisy left any crumbs from his last MRE.

No, I’ll snoop around, as the true soldier that was the Banana Dog wouldn’t mind at all.

20 views0 comments

Recent Posts

See All


bottom of page