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  • Writer's picturePatty Kramer

Theft of the Yellow Fellow Chapter Six



Suspect #4 Pill AKA Mrs. White



Now here’s a suspect for sure! Whiny didn’t give her that name just because it rhymed with her twin, Dill. She gave her that name because you never really know what Pill might be up to. She’s sorta like the way Beauty sees life; Pills the spicy pepper to Dill’s forever salt!

Just the other day while Whiny was moving the wet clothes to the drying box and had her back turned, Pill slid behind the door. When Whiny turned around all she could see was a Wolf’s head complete with long, bloody fangs and his two claws with terribly long nails wrapped around the doors’ frame. Whiny had nowhere to run and I was right underneath her feet where I’d been hoping to grab a sock, or better yet a pair of silky underwear and run through the house with them where Whiny would have to chase me. (Those are the bestest times ever!)

I’ve been mad at Pill ever since she pulled that stunt because Whiny nearly stomped me to death with all her prancing around trying to find an escape from the big bad wolf. It was a terrible ordeal for both of us, and I was severely disappointed that Whiny didn’t take the fly swatter to Pill like she does to me when I scare her to death by disappearing in the tall grass that borders Wish Island. It was my opinion that Pill needed a good swatting!

The day of the theft of the Yellow Fellow, Pill had come into the dining room dressed as the Clue character Mrs. White, in a cute black dress with a white apron and a little white cap on her head. Everyone said how adorable she looked but I held my mouth shut tight. I was practicing the rule about never barking anything unkind, and really, I was feeling kind of bad because I had wanted Whiny to spank Pill just a few days ago and that’s not a very nice thing to wish on anyone. Besides, everyone knows good dogs get more treats!

Mrs. White was being very ladylike and she had a napkin laid out across the skirt of her pretty outfit. Even going so far as to not elbow a boy suspect out of the chair she prefers to sit in around the table. She was acting the role of a proper lady of a large estate even though everyone knew she was really the housekeeper. For the most part she was succeeding in fooling everyone, but I knew better, I’d seen the maid in wolf’s clothing and it was SCARY!

She’d been doing a bit of wincing at all the racket I was making but she’d pooh-poohed the noise by waving her hand and saying something like puppies will be puppies, and acting as it the racket was no more annoying than a tiny moth fluttering around the lamplight when you were trying to read. Her dismissing attitude had me pouncing and biting until the Banana Man’s noise was equal to what Mrs. White’s screams would be if a wide-winged, mouse-sized bat, tried to settle itself atop her head. In other barks, that means I was making LOTS of noise.

What makes Mrs. White the perfect suspect in the missing of Banana Man was her need for a pair of tweezers. She claimed, although she never showed any of us the problem, that there was a sticker lodged in the calf of her leg from where she’d brushed up against a prickly pear bush. She said that as she wasn’t used to wearing short skirts, it was an honest mistake and one that she could quickly rectify by plucking out the obnoxious thorn, that is, if she only had a pair of tweezers.

Whiny was in full cleaning kitchen mode and instructed Mrs. White to open the door to Whiny’s bedroom and find her purse sitting on the bedside table. In the little zippered pocket on the outside of the purse would be what Mrs. White was seeking. That’s when Pill politely excused herself and went through the door and into the darkness of Whiny’s bedroom.

It took her a zillion minutes but she came back through the door and took her place at the table. Declaring, “all taken care of. Sticker is out.” Looking back on the incident, it seems rather odd that she didn’t bother to turn on the light to complete her task.

Pill had the perfect opportunity to steal Banana Dog when everyone was busy filling their plates. Then she could have tucked him inside the big pocket that took up the whole front panel of the apron, walked him into Whiny’s bedroom when she was supposed to be hunting tweezers, and then disposed of him inside the dark depth of the room. Maybe she put him on top of the quilt cabinet with the rest of the aliens that look like brothers and sisters of E.T. I just bet if we take the time to search Whiny’s bedroom we will find Banana Dog stuck behind a folded quilt or a creepy alien doll. Hid away until Pill can sneak him out of the house.

I may have figured out why Pill AKA Mrs. White would want Banana Dog. Just the other day, the six grandchildren and Whiny and me were watching a National Geographic show about wolves. I swear it was about the scariest thing I’ve ever seen but the children didn’t seem too worried. At one point this big gray wolf decided he needed variety in his mostly meat diet and had wandered into a mountain town that had street cameras. That wolf was shown sneaking around the corner of the local market and knabbing an entire bunch of yellow bananas and trotting off with it.

Mrs. White’s alter ego, a big bad wolf, must have had a notion that she needed variety in her diet and was going to steal, peel, and then EAT Banana Dog, although I think someone should have warned her that the inside of him is only full of air, not fruit. I know because, and don’t tell anyone, this is my second Banana Dog, the first being disposed of in the first months of my life because I had managed to poke enough holes in BD number one to actually peel back his skin.

(It should be pointed out right now that I’ve had this second Banana Dog for fourteen dozen months now which in dog years is somewhere close to twenty-nine-hundred years and he barely has a hole in him. I’ve been very careful not to poke too many holes because I like making loud racket and if he is full of holes he will sound as if he is wheezing instead of like a baby pig.)

Back to Pill, I’m sure that Whiny and I need to search Whiny’s bedroom for my yellow friend. It could be that I am a bit biased against Pill because of the stomping I took when Whiny was trapped in a room and the big bad wolf was coming to eat us.

But, putting that aside, I’m pretty sure Pill did it because I can tell by the way her scent changes when she pulls a joke on Dill or some of the other campers that she really LIKES to be a pill. There’s a much bigger word that Whiny uses that has two zillion and thirty-nine letters to describe Pill, but I’ve not mastered the two-legs language skills to where I can recite such long words.

If it turns out I am wrong in my accusations, then I will have to find a way to make it up to Pill. Maybe she would like for me to present her with her very own pair of tweezers. I know exactly where I can find one as someone lost a pair and they are beneath Whiny’s love seat where I can easily dig them out. I won’t mind doing so if only, if only, I could get my bestest friend, Banana Dog, back into my mouth. He was so squeaky.


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