• My name is Joan, and the one next to me is Eve. Hey! What are you looking at the Eve for? I’m not the human. I’m the Scottish Terrier about to eat her sandwich.

    “Joan! Bad dog!” Nuts she caught me. “I’ll get you something to eat later.”

    I tried not to growl as she finished her sandwich. Before I could sniff out some more food, Sheriff Sunny Samson came running toward us with a newspaper in his hand.

    “Ms Evelyn!” he said as he stopped in front of us and handed Eve the paper. “Looks like they are almost finished with the Trans-Continental Railroad. Isn’t that amazing?”

    While Eve looked at the paper, I did my best begging face. Sunny may not have been the sharpest knife in the world, but he always had food on him.

    “Joan.” I smiled as he pulled out a green bell pepper from his jacket pocket. “Would you like a treat?”

    “YES!” I shouted as I stood on my hind feet.

    However, like every other time I try to talk to humans, he apparently didn’t hear me.

    “Don’t give her that, Sunny,” Eve said still looking at the paper, “You know that they give her gas.”

    “Who cares about that?” I said now jumping up and down, “Give me the pepper!”

    Sunny flicked the pepper, and I ate it in one bite.

    “Ms Evelyn,” Sunny turned to Eve, “I don’t think one little pepper will kill the dog.”

    “How many times do I have to tell you? Call me Eve, Sunny,” Eve handed
    Sunny the paper. “It looks like I’ll be able to leave Louisiana.”

    Before Sunny was able to say anything, Eve’s father, Dr. Ben Frank, came running at us, or at least going as fast as a guy with one leg can. He lost it in some Civil War fighting for some Union. I don’t know the details, but I will say this, I have never seen him with a carpet or a bag in my life.

    “Sheriff,” Ben said when he go to us, “Someone just stole the Widow Willa’s pie for the pie contest.”

    “Not the pie!!!” I shouted.

    The Widow Willa was world famous in Louisiana for her pies. For my whole life she has won the pie contest, and I have yet to eat one.

    “Eve, why is the dog here?” Dr. Frank asked, noticing me as I darted past Eve.

    Eve didn’t answer. She was running after me as I followed my nose to the pie contest with the Sheriff. Her father yelled and started after all of us.

    When we got to the pie contest, since there was only one other pie, I figured out there was only one other contestant. The other contestant, a sour faced woman who smelled like blueberry pie and horses, was standing next to her pie. The poor widow was sitting in a chair beside an vacant slot crying her eyes out.

    “Mrs. Willa,” Eve sat next to Widow Willa, who was still crying. “When was the last time you saw the pie?”

    “I only turned my back to the pie for a second,” Willa cried, “But when I turned back it…it…it was gone!”

    “What type of pie was it?” Eve asked as she handed the widow a handkerchief.

    “Strawberry.” Willa dabbed her eyes.

    “Who are you Ma’m?” Sunny asked the sour faced woman.

    “My name is Ima Baker,” said the other constestant, “and I had nothing to do with the missing pie.”

    “What kind of pie is yours Mrs. Baker?” Sunny asked, even though he could have just smelled the pie to tell.

    “Blueberry,” Ima said.

    While Eve asked more questions, I put my nose to work in hopes of getting a whiff of strawberry. But the only scent I could really get was horses, and from the smell, they really needed a bath. Then I hit it, the smell of strawberry pie!

    “I think I know where the pie is!” I shouted as I ran toward the smell, but no one heard me.

    So I did the one thing that I hate more than anything in the world; I started barking. That got everyone’s attention, so I darted after the scent, and they all started following me.

    My nose led me to a small stable at the edge of the fair. There was another scent as well, but I couldn’t place it. We all burst in and found a small boy holding a strawberry pie.

    “Job!” shouted Ima.

    “I’m sorry Mama,” the boy said as Eve took the pie. “I just wanted you to win the contest this year.”

    I waited for someone to give me some praise, but as usual…

    “Good job Ms. Evelyn. You found the pie!”

    “Congratulations Eve,”

    Eve got all of the credit.

    Well, as expected, Widow Willa won the pie contest for the tenth year in a row. And this time no one was guarding the pie after the contest. I sneaked over to the table and…

    “JOAN!” Eve shouted.

    I took my face out of the pie and asked, “What? Did you want some too?”

    The End