Written by Donald Sullivan
Illustrated by Elena Yalcin
Wire Dog’s ears perked up when he heard Ellen’s voice. “Come on Wire, it’s time for our afternoon walk.”
This was Wire Dog’s favorite time of day, except for dinnertime, of course. He knew all the neighborhood kids and all the dogs in the neighborhood and would visit with them during his walks. Wire Dog, like all dogs, had an amazing sense of smell, and just from sniffing an object he could learn many things. As he strolled through the neighborhood he would sniff trees, shrubbery, light poles, sidewalks, and other objects. He could learn a great deal, such as who had been there, if they lived in the neighborhood or were strangers, and many other things. It was like reading a newspaper to him.
It was a cool, crisp autumn day and the sky was a clear blue. The trees were ablaze with color, some red, some orange, some gold, and some were still green.
“Why do the trees change color?” Wire asked.
“Because the trees go to sleep during winter time,” replied Ellen,” and their leaves change color and drop in the autumn months as the tree prepares to go to sleep. Those that sleep are called deciduous trees, and the ones that stay green, like the pretty Holly there, are called evergreen trees.”
As they ambled along, Wire Dog noticed a disturbance ahead. Something was going on at Mrs. Pildickle’s house. There was a yellow police tape strung around the yard and a number of onlookers. Ellen asked one of the onlookers, Mrs. Pudmuddle, what had happened.
“Mrs. Pildickle baked some apple pies to donate to the Thanksgiving dinner for homeless people,” Mrs. Pudmuddle replied. “She left the pies to cool and went to visit with Mrs. Delwigger next door. When she came back she discovered that one of the pies was missing.”
The police have blocked off the house just because of a missing pie?” Ellen asked.
“Mrs. Delwigger’s husband is a retired policeman,” said the lady, “and he decided to help Mrs. Pildickle. He says it’s a real mean person who would steal from the homeless, and the person should be caught and punished. Mr. Delwigger is even dusting for fingerprints and looking for clues.”
About that time Mr. Delwigger came out of the house, and the crowd was clamoring for a report on what he had found.
“I’m sorry to report that the thief left no clues,” he said, “but now I must go to keep a dental appointment, so I will resume my investigation tomorrow.”
Ellen knelt down and whispered to Wire Dog, “I’ll bet that you can find the thief,” she said. “With your amazing nose you could track him down like the police dogs do. But I forgot; you would need something belonging to the thief that has his smell on it and we don’t have anything like that. Oh well, it was a thought.”
“But I don’t need anything,” said Wire, “I already know what Mrs. Pildickle’s yummy apple pies smell like, so I will use that to track him.”
Wire began by holding his nose up and sniffing the air, and then put his nose to the ground and started sniffing his way toward the rear of Mrs. Pildickle’s house. Ellen followed him as he moved toward a wooded area behind the house. Wire stopped moving and looked up at Ellen.
“I already know who it is,” he said. “It’s the boy they call Timmy Scotomooter, and he’s there in the wooded area.”
“I would never have dreamed it would be little Timmy. Let’s go find him.
She followed Wire as he headed into the woods, and sure enough they found Timmy. He was sitting on a fallen log, with the pie beside him. He had not eaten it yet.
“Timmy! Shame on you,” said Ellen. “That pie was meant for homeless people.”
“I know,” he said, “and I couldn’t eat it because my conscience wouldn’t let me. It looked and smelled so good I couldn’t resist taking it. I want to take it back but now I’m afraid.”
“You needn’t be afraid, Timmy. Mrs. Pildickle is a kind lady, and I’m sure she will forgive you. Now pick up that pie and let’s go and return it.”
Timmy did as he was told and they headed back.
Timmy handed the pie to Mr. Pildickle. “I’m so sorry and ashamed of what I’ve done, Ma’am, and I hope that you will forgive me.”
Mrs. Pildickle leaned over, kissed him on the forehead, and hugged him. “You’re forgiven, Timmy. Tomorrow I’m inviting all three of you here because I’m going to bake an apple pie especially for you, Ellen, and Wire Dog.”
“You see, Timmy,” said Ellen, “It pays to be honest.” She reached down and patted Wire’s head. Wire yapped and happily wagged his tail.
About the Author:
Donald Sullivan is a native Floridian now living in North Carolina.
He is retired from the US Army where he served in Artillery,
Engineers, Intelligence, and Psychological Operations. He has also worked as insurance agent, security guard, delivery boy, and soda jerk.
Since retiring he dabbles in writing. He has written short stories
for a number of small magazines and ezines. He has also
self-published a number of books, including scifi, fantasy, horror, historical, humor, and more.
He can be reached at email: firstname.lastname@example.org
His website: http://dhsully.wix.com/part1
His latest books:
Or at Amazon:
About the Illustrator:
Elena Yalcin was born in Russia. She discovered her love of painting when she was a young child. She attended an art school for five years, it was her second home. In 2010 she immigrated to Canada and began painting again. She is happily married and has two children. Actually she is an oil artist, but since she became a mother and housewife she decided to try the new field of illustration. Her illustrations are whimsical, full of bright vivid colours and movement. She enjoys adding small details to her art. These details encourage viewers to look at the pictures more and more making new discoveries each time. Her oil paintings can be found at:http://fineartamerica.com/profiles/elena-yalcin…