It’s late when we arrive back home after shopping. As I walk in the door Neewa jumps up on me to give her welcome home kisses and get scratches. This is not unusual. She always does this. Neewa misses me when I leave home without her. She does not like to be left out of any trips and she is always excited to see me when I return home.
Her tail is hitting the wall, thud, thud, thud. She jumps around and wags her tail continuously until I reach down to stroke her. I pet her and put my jacket on the hook near the door.
Jackie screams, “Dad, the pies are gone!”
As I look around for the thieves, I see no sign of anyone in the house. No door is broken and no window smashed in.
Dad comes bursting into the house and runs over to Jackie. “What happened? Are you all right?”
“Look at this, Dad. The pies are gone!” Jackie investigates the scene. “Empty pie plates are all over the kitchen floor!”
Dad and Jackie stand frozen looking at each other, perplexed.
Neewa looks different, a little funny. As I inspect her more closely I can see a small orange stain on the white fur above her black lips. I look at Neewa again, closer this time. There’s another blemish on the top of her paw between her toes. And as I look down the hall, I see fresh paw prints.
I’m frowning and my hands are on my hips. “It was not thieves.”
“Oh boy,” Jackie exclaims, “she ate all three pies and she didn’t even leave us one.”
“I can’t believe you did this, Neewa. You ate all of our pies. How did you get up on the counter?”
I hide my laugh, as I know Jackie and Dad are disappointed, but I burst out laughing anyway, “Ha Ha Ha, Neewa, how did you get the pies? You would have had to fly through the air to get up on the counter?”
I can hear Dad yell, “Bad girl, bad Neewa, go lay down.”
Neewa’s tail and ears drop down, but I don’t think she knows what she did wrong. I look at the aluminum pie plates scattered around the kitchen.
I’m very disappointed. I want to cry. We have nothing to bring to the dinner tomorrow. And all that work was for nothing. Well almost nothing. Neewa had a good feast.
Jackie is running to the door, pulling Neewa outside by the collar. “Oh boy, you are going to be sick.”
Dad sighs, “Make sure you get the chain on her Jackie, we don’t want her to get lost before the trip tomorrow.”
Dad exclaims, “Hey look, I left the digital camera on the counter. The motion detector started the camera when Neewa climbed up and ate the pies.”
I joke, trying to lighten up the situation a little. “Maybe we will see her floating up onto the counter like a ghost.”
Jackie laughs as she comes back in the door, “Ha, ha, she didn’t climb up on the counter, she flew up like a bird.”
We all laugh and then go back to cleaning up her mess.
All of a sudden Dad is running out the door.
“What’s the matter? Where are you going?” I yell to him as I sway back and forth and hang out the door.
His words are muffled as he closes the van door and drives off. “I’ll check the camera when I get back. You guys wait here.”
In just fifteen minutes he’s back at the house with two brown bags of groceries.
“Dad, where did you go? What in the world did you buy?” I ask him as he walks in the door.
Unpacking he declares, “I drove to the supermarket, ran in and got three frozen nine-inch pie crusts and six cans of pumpkin. Okay everyone, we are going to make three more pies tonight.”
I sigh, “Tonight?”
“You guys get out the bowls,” he directs us as he turns on the oven.
Jackie and I pitch in. I get out the bowls while Jackie gathers the rest of the ingredients that we already have.
Before I know it, we measure and mix the batter for three pies, pour them into the store-bought pie shells, and pop them into the oven.
It isn’t long before the house is filled with the smell of pumpkin pies, again. About thirty minutes later, we have three pies. But this time I put them right into the refrigerator.
I frown, looking out the window at Neewa. “Neewa, we are letting the pies cool down in the refrigerator this time.”
Neewa is still outside and probably will be till morning. I hope she’s feeling better by then.
We’re all relieved to have pumpkin pies to bring on our trip. Everything seems better now.