It was late evening, I was grading papers, Dan was watching TV. No one was paying Baby Fritzy any mind. She came into the living room sporting white powder all over her face. Her whiskers looked like they had been dipped in glue then dusted again with white powder. She bounced in licking her chops and wagging her tail. Her eyes pleaded nolo contendere.
Dan called to me and I took one look. I wondered what she had got into and if it was dangerous. I reached down and held her while I sniffed her muzzle. "Garlic" was the most noticeable scent. I knew what she had gotten into.
For supper I had taken a package of venison steaks out of the freezer. In a zip lock bag I had put flour, garlic, and seasoning, then dredged the meat in the coating. Then I took the meat and fried it. Supper consisted of venison steaks, boiled potatoes, homemade gravy and string beans. I had left the zip-lock bag on the kitchen counter.
The flour mixture contained the echoes and scent of venison steaks. One of the great things about zip-lock bags is their portability. Baby Fritzy can testify to that fact. She often carries zip-lock bags outside to dine on their contents in privacy.
We surmised that this time she must have packed off the bag eaten her fill, became thirsty, and returned for a second helping of flour seasoned with the essence of deer steak. When she came into the house she knew that she had left some evidence that would convict her of being responsible for wrongdoing. She knew she was busted.
