A Little Hairy Thief

Pooping on the classroom piano wasn’t the only behavior that gave Daffy notoriety. 

He was a free-range monkey, going in and out of the house whenever he desired through a small window in Ted’s bedroom. He especially enjoyed exploring the side yard while dragging his best friend, Ginger Cat, around with him. He couldn’t 

carry her; she was too large. So, he dragged her. Surprisingly, she did not object.  

He also enjoyed climbing the trees that were close to the house, an apple tree and a basswood. 

Yes, his was a life of freedom and adventure until he one day when he wandered about a block away to the neighbor’s house.  

Mrs. Brumble was elderly and overweight. She heaved herself slowly between her bedroom, kitchen, and a large, overstuffed chair in the living 

room. One morning after preparing eggs, bacon, 

and toast, she settled herself for her morning feast, and that’s when it happened.   

“Tell me everything that you can remember exactly as you remember,” the officer said to Mrs. Brumbles. 

“Well, I had just settled down to eat when the screen door slowwwwly opened. I looked up to see who was coming in, but no one was there.”  

“You didn’t see anyone at first?” the officer

questioned.  

“No, but the door kept opening wider, so I 

looked down, and this little man was standing there! He had brown hair all over his skinny little body! Why, it scares me to think ’bout it! He had little beady black eyes and a funny nose.”  

“Then what happened?” the officer questioned. 

“I screamed!” Mrs. Brumbles answered dramatically.                                                                                                                                            

“And?” The officer continued to probe. 

“As soon as I screamed, that little man ran 

across the room and jumped up on the table really 

quick! Jumped up just like that.” Mrs. Brumbles demonstrated this by lifting her hands up above her head.  

“And then?” the officer probed again.  

“He ran right across my table, grabbed a piece of toast, held it with his mouth, jumped down and ran out the door!” Mrs. Brumbles exclaimed while gesturing from the table to the door. “Oh, I forgot,” she added. “He had a long tail.”  

“Can you remember anything else?” the officer asked.

“That’s about it,” Mrs. Brumbles answered.

“But if I were you, I’d go over to the new people next door. They’re from Chicago.”  

Ted and I were in the garden with Mama when the police car pulled into the drive. An officer stepped from the car, settling his cap on his head while walking toward us.                                             “Good morning. I’m Officer Tanner,” he 

greeted. “Your neighbor, Mrs. Brumbles just made

a complaint that a little man with a long tail stole

a piece of toast from her breakfast table,” he 

explained. Then he asked, “Are you the people who have a pet monkey?” His son attended the elementary school, and Officer Tanner had heard about Daffy pooping on the top of the piano in Mrs. Taylor’s classroom.  

The next issue of the local newspaper printed a story titled “Monkey Business” reporting the theft of a piece of toast. The story firmly established my family’s quirky reputation.