Carmel tore down the street, into an alley, through a rickety fence, and into her own back yard. She settled in a sunny patch for a nice chew.
There was commotion in the front yard, which Carmel ignored. It found her anyway. “There she is, that thieving cur!” screamed the butcher.
Carmel’s owner said, “Innocent until proven guilty. Do you have proof that is your bone?”