The Neighborhood Shoe Thief

This morning I was working in the kitchen when Pamela burst into the house from the back porch.

She said, "Somebody stole it. Wicked thief!"

I asked, "What did they steal?"

Pamela said, "The shoe! I searched everywhere."



I walked to the porch with her and, sure enough, her shoe was missing. Only one shoe of the myriad of shoes sitting on our porch had disappeared! Of course, it was Pamela's favorite well-worn shoe.

I turned to her and said, "A human would steal two shoes."

Pamela did not follow my thought process, so I added, "I think it was an animal."

She still did not understand, so I said, "I think it was a dog."

I went back in the kitchen, and Pamela burst back into the house. "I found it!"

I joined her on the porch, and she pointed to a spot behind the car. We walked together to retrieve the missing shoe and were relieved to see no teeth marks.



The funniest thing happened on our walk to the playground where she pretends to be a superhero on the climbing equipment. Around the corner from our house, we both spotted someone else's lone shoe. I gasped and pointed and said, "A shoe!"

Pamela laughed and said, "Comedy!" Then she pointed to her shoe and said, "Just like this one!"

Then, I added, "The shoe thief is a dog!"

It was one of those sweet moments I will always cherish! Why? Because she has come a long way from screaming meltdowns when things went wrong.

P.S. Now, if only I could solve the mystery of the pumpkin pie thief. Pamela and I baked one yesterday; I left the house for a few hours and someone inhaled it. Steve was out of town for the night. I do not think I can pin it on the dogs because they are unable to jump on the stove. Somehow, I have a feeling the thief (or thieves) walk upright . . .