There's been a pretty vicious string of break-ins in my neighborhood recently. Thanks to the valiant efforts of my three fuzzy, black dogs, I suspect one of those break-ins was thwarted.
While I obviously wasn't there, I analyzed and recreated the crime scene. My brilliant deductions led me to one startling conclusion. My dogs are geniuses!
Here is what, I believe, happened.
Footsteps were heard on the front porch. The three dogs sprang into action, enacting their plan.
Lilly Abigail Martin van Buren (she thinks she's royalty, you know), the littlest of the three (who is also the alpha dog in my absence), took up her position at the door and growled. "Rrrrrrrrr!!"
"Ace," she barked. "Take the back door! Now! Let no one in!"
"Bob! Find something to hinder or slow the interloper!"
"Look what I found," says Bob, carrying what used to be a brand new, largish bag of coffee and leaving a trail behind him. "If the inter-whatever is invisible, perhaps we'll see his footsteps!"
Bob proceeded to rip into the bag of coffee, spreading grounds from one end of the house to the other. And in an over zealous fit... of something, he shredded the inner and outer bags as well.
At this point, the interloper has become well aware of two things -- three vicious, attack dogs and a house that Oscar the Grouch would be proud of!
Naturally, the interloper fled the scene. The three vicious, attack dogs, having nothing better to do, decided to sample the gourmet coffee for themselves. This would explain the hint of coffee in the various 'deposits' which were left around my humble abode.
That's the obvious explanation for the mess that greeted me upon arriving home from work this past Tuesday.
While I have since cleaned the mess, I haven't yet figured out how to get the Starbucks smell out of my house.
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