Ramón and I returned home to our condo one night after playing trivia. When Ramón tried to push the door open, he was met with resistance, as though someone was barricaded inside.

“Did someone break in?” I whispered to Ramón.

“I don’t know,” he answered, then gave the door a shove.

The door hit something hard and, as Ramón budged it further open, we realized the wooden coatrack that typically stood next to the door was on its side. It was a stereotypical old-school coatrack, made of sturdy wood that was surprisingly heavy. Combine that with the weight of the coats, bags, and other items hanging on it, and we were dumbfounded by how it got knocked over.

---

We surveyed the rooms for anything else amiss, still weighing the idea that someone had been in the condo while we were away.

“Could it have been one of the dogs?” I wondered.

“There’s no way they could knock that thing over,” Ramón said.

“Yeah.”

Over the next several days, we occasionally brought up the Mystery of the Coatrack—until we accepted that we’d never know what happened.

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A few weeks later, I was sitting at the kitchen counter, working on my computer. My back faced the doorway. I heard an unfamiliar sound behind me and turned around.

Our 11-lb. dog, Benny, was swinging—by his mouth—from a scarf that hung on the coatrack. The furry four-legged pendulum made little grunts as he gained momentum.

“Benny!” I shouted in my best pretend-mad voice.

 And that’s how we solved the Mystery of the Coatrack.