|
TITLE: The Returning Thief By Ellen Lynam 03/01/06 |
|
THE RETURNING THIEF
Jimmy heard his father calling him and knew by the sound of his voice that something was wrong. He and his sister Claudia, along with Spike their dog, raced to the barn where their father was standing and looking very angry.
“Jimmy, I told you Spike could stay as long as he didn’t cause any problems. I knew he was going to be trouble as soon as he turned up here.”
“What did Spike do Dad?” asked Jimmy.
“I found one of our chickens dead this morning!”
“But Dad, how do you know it was Spike that killed it?”
“Because, he is the kind of dog that will kill chickens. Once he kills, he won’t stop, he‘ll do it again and again. I‘m afraid you’re going to have to find another home for him.”
“But Dad! Can’t we wait and see if he does it again? I just know it couldn’t be him. He doesn’t pay any attention to the chickens. We go by them everyday. Please Dad, please! I’ll watch him real good.”
“Well, okay,” said Dad, “I’ll give him one more chance. But, I’m warning you, if any more chickens are killed he has to go.”
Jimmy, Claudia, and Spike headed back to the house. “Claudia,” said Jimmy, “I just know it can’t be Spike that’s killing the chickens and I have a plan to prove it. We’ll go outside tonight, after mom and dad go to bed, and watch. We’ll keep Spike locked in the barn and see if anything tries to get the chickens. We’ll pray that it isn’t Spike.”
Because the nights in the desert were cold, at that time of the year, Jimmy and Claudia put on their jackets then tiptoed down the stairs and out the kitchen door. They climbed the tree that was near the chicken house and waited.
The moon was full so they were able to see the chicken house clearly. It seemed like they had been in that tree for hours and Jimmy was having a hard time keeping awake. He didn’t dare talk to Claudia, because his voice might chase away whatever it was that was killing the chickens. That is, if anything came around tonight.
Jimmy was just drifting off to sleep when the chickens started squawking. He looked over toward the chicken house and saw an animal that looked like Spike chasing the chickens. Oh no, how did Spike get out of the barn? Jimmy and Claudia jumped out of the tree and started
running to the chicken house. Before they could get there, the animal ran off and across the field.
They ran over to the barn to see if Spike was still there and were shocked to see the door open. Somehow, it must not have closed all the way when they put Spike in before they went to bed.
“What are we going to do? Dad will be sure to make me get rid of Spike now,” said Jimmy. Together they walked slowly to the house and quietly went inside. Before they could go upstairs they were startled by Dad’s voice.
“Jimmy! Claudia! What were you doing outside at this time of night?”
Jimmy and Claudia looked at each other and then Jimmy told his father what had happened.
“That settles it,” said Dad. “Spike has to go tomorrow.”
The next morning Jimmy and Claudia were up early. They wanted to see if Spike was still there. Sure enough, he was right by the kitchen door, just like always. Jimmy was hugging Spike and talking to him when Dad came out of the barn. “Uh oh,” thought Jimmy. “He’s coming to get Spike.”
Dad called to Jimmy and Claudia and told them to go over to the chicken house. They looked at each other and wondered what was going on.
When they got there, Dad pointed to the ground. “Look,” he said. “ See those tracks in the dirt? Do you know what kinds of tracks those are?” Together, Jimmy and Claudia with heads
down said, “dog tracks.” “No,” said Dad. “Those are coyote tracks. Do you see the imprints of the paws? See how they are in a straight line? And look the front footprint is a little bigger
than the back one. You know what that means don‘t you? It isn’t Spike that has been getting the chickens, it’ a coyote. We’ll have to try and catch him before he gets any more of our chickens.”
Jimmy couldn’t contain himself any longer and let out a big “Yippee! Spike can stay.”
The opinions expressed by authors may not necessarily reflect the opinion of FaithWriters.com.
