Death of a Remote Control

This is a crime with only circumstantial evidence, a pretty clear motive, and two suspects.

Two dogs were left alone for most of the day. At the end of said day, one universal remote control lay in critical condition. The culprit? That’s open for discussion. Of the two suspects, Annie has the longer rap sheet. Guinness, the resident good dog, has not been known to chew anything except marrow bones. We try not to jump to conclusions though, since we’ve been wrong before.

We had gone into the city to see a museum with the kids, so we were gone almost nine hours. Remarkably, this was the only thing destroyed in the house while we were gone.  We’d not left them alone for so long before and expected destruction on a biblical scale upon our return. Idle paws are the devil’s playground as it were.

Of course the remote control’s death is my fault. I should have known better than to leave anything so deliciously tempting out in the open. I’d become complacent from leaving it out without incident for so long. This time though, the limits of Newfy boredom were tested – and surpassed. Alas, the remote control was within the newfound limits. The sad part (to me) is that I had just programmed it so that it operated all of our many devices just the way I liked. Such is life.

I supposed I should consider us lucky. This remote was only $40 or so. The $150 remote was safe in the drawer while the drama unfolded. I liked this one better though. We’re just happy that she whoever did this didn’t eat the batteries.

We later discovered further evidence of wrongdoing upstairs. As Lauren was making dinner, Colleen walked in asking, “Where do you want this?” She was holding Lauren’s hand made ceramic olive oil dispenser.

Colleen had found the dispenser on the living room couch. This was significant because we were all pretty certain that we had last seen it on the lazy Susan in the middle of the dining room table. Also significant was the fact that the jug was empty, where earlier in the day it had been at least partially full.

Forensics analysis seemed to indicate that Annie someone had carefully taken the jug from the center of the table, carefully carried it across first a tile and then a hardwood floor, then gently placed it on the couch. Annie Whoever it was  then gently chewed off the rubber stopper from the jug (apparently consuming the tasty rubber bits) and carefully consumed all the precious nectar contained therein. All without so much as a chip in the ceramic glaze.

There was no mess; no puddle of oil. There was no indication that there had been a crime aside from the misplaced decanter of oil. If Annie the perpetrator had been smart enough to put the jug back, we would have never known until we went to pour some sweet tasty oil. It might have been weeks before we would have discovered the empty container. Luckily, our dogs don’t have opposable thumbs or the common decency to clean up after themselves.

GAD