It is a rare event when the psychic village of Ashton experiences a heinous burglary for which the perpetrator is still on the loose. It was a quiet Sunday night when a person or persons unknown penetrated into the basement of the Whiteway Service Station. Using various means, they forced themselves up through the floor boards of the station and, once there, absconded with all the cartoons of cigarettes that were non menthol and the loose coinage in the cash register.

The hole in the floor was extremely small; and since all of the ladies of Ashton are excellent cooks and bakers, led police to believe in one of three culprit descriptions: 1) a child under age six; 2) a meth addict; or 3) a mouse with a nicotine patch. All of the area children six and under were immediately called to police headquarters to ascertain their smoking habits. None admitted to the vice while most showed an unhealthy knowledge of the brands of chewing tobacco and prices.

Rounding up the users of illegal drugs proved a tad difficult; it was a challenge to keep them six feet apart and only in groups of ten. Most had alibis pertaining to the production, distribution and use of meth. The few without an alibi smoked menthol cigarettes; strike two. With spring and the warm weather, all mice were out in the fields playing “Dodge the Red Tailed Hawk;” strike three.

It was time for drastic measures; the village called upon the services of my expert tracking terriers Bert and Ernie. As soon as they were placed by the point of burglary their noses went to work around the station. It took only minutes for them to find the doggy treat bag. Obviously the criminal must have touched the bag during the heist. When no reward for their good work was forthcoming, they sniffed their way to a bag of cheese puffs; again, the perp must have grabbed the bag at some point.

To shorten the story considerably, after a complimentary doggy treat and cheese puff, the silky Sherlocks were escorted outside to peruse the perimeter.

Why do people do evil? We Catholics call it original sin; that sin of Adam and Eve that always tempts us to do the bad thing instead of the good. We ourselves are created good by God but the consequences of original sin remain. That is why Easter is so important to us, as a reminder of the One who died for our sins and rose again that we might have the promise of eternal life. As St. Paul reminds us, “Where sin abounds, grace abounds all the more.” No sin or ours can overcome Jesus’ love.

Bert just returned with a dead mouse; now if only it has a nicotine patch!