Things that go woof in the night, or, For Whom the Chime Tolls.

San Antonio sunrise.

The first word that came to mind was, "Churl."  As in, "What kind of churl steals wind chimes?"

Deborah is up at dawn every morning.  The Beagle Posse must walk, and do a Dawn Patrol of the property perimeter.  This morning she discovered that our 36 inch wind chimes were missing from the corner of our patio.  Not fallen.  Not cut down. Not silenced. Gone. Stolen.  And I thought, "Now that's some downright churlish behavior."

As far as either Darling Wife or I could recall, we had heard not a peep, or bark, or whine from any beagle during the night.  We had heard snores and gas, of course, but no sounds of alarm, guarding, or warning.

When I called in the Beagle Posse to have a discussion of this apparent lapse, they came with the speed of a tranquilized snail.  They sensed that this just MIGHT be a Bad Dog occasion.  I wasn't sure it would be, but felt some explanations were owed.

"Do you two hear the wind chimes?"

"Should we?"

"Not now.  But, more to the point, did you hear it last night?"

"What do you mean, 'hear'?"

"BEAGLES!!  Now you are just stalling.  You were with Deborah on the dawn walk.  You heard her say the wind chimes were stolen in the night.  I'm asking why you didn't hear anything or raise the Beagle Alarm when it happened.  Somehow, I don't think stealing 3 foot long wind chimes is a silent accomplishment."

"Maybe they used a silencer, "said Tuppence. "I've heard that gangsters use silencers."

Tommy jumped in. "Well, I did let out one WOOF. You didn't pay any attention.  And, anyway, we didn't like the wind chimes.  They disturbed naps."

"Look," I said, "since the first deal with the first wolf, that contract to trade leftovers for vigilance, the prime directive of the canine/human bond has been the agreement of guarding against night intruders in exchange for plate scrapings."

Tommy sniffed.  "That is some heavy theoretical cat poop you're dropping there."

Tuppence added, "We DO guard you. We have not let a dog walking neighbor, UPS driver, or maintenance man approach the apartment unchallenged.  And, REMEMBER, we kept the dinosaurs out of the trailer at the state park."  (See, "Beagles Trail a T-Rex," 4/5/19.)

"All right," said Tommy, "in spit of your accusatory approach, we will help you out here.  We're the great tracking trailing dogs.  Let us smell a sock or a t-shirt, and we'll track down the chimes thief."

"The thief's sock, or the wind chime's sock?" I asked.

"Either," said Tuppence.  (Yeah, I know sarcasm is lost on dogs.)

"Well, the thief didn't drop one, and the wind chimes never wore shirts or socks."

"Then there's nothing we can do," said Tuppy. "If you won't at least meet us half way, we can't help."

Tommy said, "We'll take our morning treats now."

This time, I was the one who walked out of the room.