House Guests?

It was no longer hypothetical. Someone or some thing was in the house. The decorative pine cones were out of place in their cut glass bowl, and the dog food bowl had been kicked or otherwise transported clear across the kitchen floor. Rupert would never be capable of that. Enthusiastic bowl licking, yes. Complete bowl repositioning, no.

At first it hadn't seemed like such a bother. It was more a fun little mystery - a house guest, if you will, who didn't quite understand all the rules of the house but was otherwise alright to have around. The silver hadn't gone missing and the 48" flat screen TV was still firmly affixed to the wall. Doors stayed locked and the bumping and scratching sounds in the attic could easily  be ascribed to generalized house settling and seasonal bird nesting under the eaves.

But now it was personal. The little rubber wild boar figurine Hazel had gotten in college as part of a gift the cast and crew of Godspell had given her at the end of their successful fun; the little piggy that had faithfully stood watch by the bathroom sink, perched on the windowsill along with the little goat and lion figures that had come along later - that little piggy was missing! She had fished around in the drain and come up with nothing but the requisite hair clog and had finally cleaned up the basket of hair accessories that was still hiding scrunchies from the mid-90s at the bottom in a futile search. He was gone. And someone or some thing had taken him. And she wanted him back.