The Pizza Ghost.

Life with a Beagle Posse means an occasional foreboding of disaster. A twinge came as I was working in the computer room. I started to the kitchen where the vibes were originating.

The Posse met me in the hallway, taking a side by side sit, and blocking the way. They only sit when they are trying to work me for something.

“Where ya goin'?” asked Tuppence.

“There's no mess in the kitchen,” said Tommy. “You don't need to check. We just took a look for you.”

I said, “Move, I'll see for myself.”

“And,” Tuppy rushed to add, “if there is any problem, the cat did it.”

“ We don't have a cat.”

Tommy said, “You need to go get one. We'll wait.”

“Even if I get a cat, the time line won't work for you.”

“You'd believe a cat?” asked Tuppence. “Cats lie.”

“And beagles don't?”

“We're talking about cats.”

“No,” I said, “we're talking about the kitchen.”

“We weren't,” said Tommy.

I stepped past and went to the kitchen. The tingle had been right. We'd had half a home made pizza on the counter. Far enough back, I thought, to be out of reach. I underestimated the power of pizza spring in beagle legs.

There was little left, but signs everywhere of the struggle that had ensued. Scraps of green peppers here and there, and spots of tomato sauce up on the doors of the cabinets where pizza had been shaken like a dog toy. The pizza had been sitting on a flexible plastic cutting board. This was now on the floor with a lacy edge. The lace work bearing a perfect match to the arrangement and size of beagle teeth. Worst of all was a puddle of beagle puke where the pepperoni had been too rich for a canine tummy.

I set to clean up, and the Posse strolled down the hall to the back of the house and the patio, as if that's where they'd been headed all along.

As they quietly made their escape I heard them discussing. “We should have told him Bigfoot did it.”

Tuppy answers, “He doesn't believe in Bigfoot.”

Tommy returns, “How about next time we blame the Duck Dynasty guy?”

“Naw,” says Tuppence, “that fraud isn't allowed in the house.”

“I know,” exclaimed Tommy, “We'll say the Pizza Ghost did it.”

“Now, that sounds good, “ answered Tuppy.

“Yeah, Pizza Ghost.”

“Yup, Pizza Ghost.”

A confident Posse went out the dog door.