Ryan was six years old when tragedy struck. The cookie jar lay unprotected on the counter. Crumbs were strewn across the black-and-white tile kitchen floor. He was hungry, so hungry.

“Mom!” He cried in anguish, “Mom, where are you?” He heard no reply. “Mom I need cookies!” He screamed at the top of his lungs. Still there was no answer. His stomach gave a low groan of complaint. “Oh well.” He mumbled, “I guess she’s hung over again. I’ll have to solve this one myself.”

So Ryan set off, intent on sleuthing out this mystery crime, for there was a crime committed, of that he had no doubt. First he decided to gather clues. For this, he would have to revisit the grisly scene. He could not even bear to imagine the horrific sight that awaited him there. All of his delicious, moist, freshly-baked cookies were sitting in somebody else’s stomach, being digested by somebody else’s acids. The very thought made him cringe and shudder. He went to his room and donned his sleuth outfit, (it was an authentic Sherlock Holmes replica) and where grabbed his magnifying glass.

“Detective Ryan is on the case!” He proclaimed, “The case of the cookie caper!”
When he arrived on the scene he noticed that it looked different than it did the first time. Something was off, and then he heard it. A faint sound was emanating from behind the counter. He got closer. It sounded almost wet! He peeked around the corner.
“Jeez buddy!” He exclaimed, “C’mon you’re destroying evidence here! I could arrest you!” It was just his Caucasian German Shepherd, Brandy, and he was licking the crumbs up from the floor. Just then, Ryan had an epiphany. “Eureka!” He shouted,” It was you, wasn’t it boy? Well, I better make sure… Go to the bathroom.” So he sent Brandy outside, but to no avail. He did not have the multicolored feces of a dog that had just munched all of his cookies.
“I bet it was Mom!” He deduced, “She had that party last night! She must have gotten really hungry when she was intoxicated. And all of her strange friends were over, so she must have really wanted to impress them with my marvelous cookies! Those dirty scoundrels!” He declared, outraged. “Alright Brandy, let’s go find Mom.” The detective duo searched the house from top to bottom, but there was still no sign of the sick stealer who raised him. “Where could she be Brandy?” Asked Ryan to his furry friend, “We looked everywhere!” All of the sudden, the hair on Brandy’s haunches stood at end, his large ears perked up, and his lips curled back; the light glinted off of his sharp fangs as he let loose a menacing growl. He heard a noise from the den. When he went to investigate, he found his mother trying to sneak through the window. She looked terrible, like she had spent the night in the wild. Her blonde hair was sticking up in some places, and was slicked sown in others. She had numerous visible cuts and bruises of unknown origin, and her leg looked like it was broken. There were stains all over her clothing from unidentifiable substances. There were crumbs on her lips, but there was no way of knowing where they had come from. She reeked of puke, smoke and alcohol. She could not even stand without swaying so violently that Ryan was afraid she would simply crash to the floor.
“Oh good morning darling child,” she slurred, “Now time for you to go to sleep.” She staggered across the room.
“Mom did you and your friends eat any of my cookies last night?” Ryan inquired, as he took in the train wreck before him with wide, innocent eyes.
“Hon, I honestly can’t remember your birthday right now, much less what I may have, or may not have eaten last night.” She stated.
Ryan let out a long sigh, “Oh well, Brandy. I guess Mom won’t be able to help with this investigation. Let’s go check out the crime scene again, see if we can uncover some clues.” He started off, “Hey Mom, I’m going to need some more cookies by tonight.” He called back over his shoulder.
He arrived in the kitchen and remembered something he had seen in National Geographic about Caucasian German Shepherds: They had two hundred and twenty-five million scent receptors, whereas humans only had five million. They were used to track criminals because of their insanely good sense of smell. He decided to put that sniffing power to work.
“Come on Brandy, lead me to that thief!” Brandy just stood there, looking at him with his sad puppy eyes. “What is it boy?” asked Ryan, “Oh no! Certainly not! I’m not the thief! I’ll even set a trap and catch whoever it is on video; then you will see!”
So that night, Ryan set up three Samsung VX-1000 cameras surrounding the cookie jar, and went to bed. In the morning he witnessed himself sleepwalk into the kitchen, and (in his sleep) eat all of his precious cookies!
“Hey!” He exclaimed, “That isn’t fair! I can’t even enjoy them properly when I’m asleep!” From then on, he always kept the cookie jar on top of the refrigerator, where he could not reach them in his sleep.
“Oh well, this time I’m the thief, but this is another case well solved, boy!” Said Ryan humbly, “Here, you enjoy a cookie, I’ve had plenty!”