You kneel down to Rex's level and hold your magnifying glass up dramatically. "Rex," you say, "you've been awfully quiet since the cookie incident." Rex tilts his head. "Don't play innocent," you continue. "Your breath smells like sugar cookies." He blinks. Then lets out another tiny burp. The air fills with the faint smell of vanilla and sugar. "Caught red-pawed!" you declare. But before you can say anything else, Rex turns his head toward Dad and gives a short bark — almost like he's tattling. Dad raises both hands. "Okay, okay," he says, laughing. "You got me. I gave Rex one cookie. Just one! He looked so cute sitting there, and I couldn't resist." You gasp dramatically. "Dad! You fed evidence to the suspect!" Dad shrugs, still grinning. "And… maybe I had one too. Just for quality control." You look around the room. Your little brother and Mom are trying very hard not to laugh — and also not to meet your eyes. Hmm. Very suspicious.