How Much Wood Can A Wolf Chuck Chuck

When Chief Moonbeam made it to Bowie's house of sticks the place was surrounded by police. In the background he could hear the cyclic blaring of the burglar alarm like the howl of one of his clan members in mourning. The windows and the door had been blown in and shards of glass littered the grass and carpet. It looked like whoever the burglars were, they were long gone.

The pigs, I mean the police, leapt back when they saw the wolf coming, clutching at their guns. Fortunately, the insurance claims adjuster stepped forward. "There's nothing to worry about," said the adjuster pushing his glasses up his snout and tapping his clipboard with his pen, "This is Chief Moonbeam, a friend of the family. I have him listed as an emergency contact here."

A particularly large pig, I mean police, officiously moved toward the wolf. "Perhaps you can shed some light on this incident."

"I'm sorry, officer," said Chief Moonbeam, "I've only just come to water the plants and check on the place. Maybe you can tell me what you know and I'll fill in whatever details I can."

"Well, as you can see, something huffed and puffed and blew the door in as well as most of the windows on or near the north side of the house. Not to be speciest or anything, but quite honestly I suspected your people."

"Oh no, this would take a lot more force than any of us could manage. And besides Bowie is on good terms with my clan."

Next the adjuster pushed his way to Chief Moonbeam. "Can you tell me if any of these items was present before the break in?" The adjuster flipped through scraps of pink, blue, white and goldenrod paper until he found just the right one with dark blue carbon paper scrawls across it. "I seem unable to locate a silk purse with silver clasp, all of the mirrors and the home entertainment centre."

"You mean his TV and CD stereo set are gone?"

"No, those have all been left on the floor. I mean the centre that was holding all of those items. It was a chrome plated jobbie. Rather expensive in its own right."

The wolf rubbed the back of his ear remembering, "Last I knew those were all there." Chief Moonbeam found this whole business very peculiar, but left it to the police to sort out leaving his phone number in case he could be of anymore assistance. He didn't know what he was going to say to Bowie when he got back.

Copyright May 1996 Katherine Phelps