Lucy disappeared more than a month ago. She could not have run away. My guess is she's being held hostage in some fraternity house or dorm room not far from her home.
That's where I'd be if I were a 2-foot ceramic goose.
The white goose with black eyes, yellow beak, yellow webbed feet and a yellow birthmark -- OK, a yellow stain -- had been a fixture on Aylesboro Avenue in Squirrel Hill for more than a year. She was wearing a red-and-white polka-dot Minnie Mouse outfit when last seen.
"Once you've seen one goose, you really haven't seen them all," her owner, Gayle Tissue, said.
There's a brown spot on the lawn where once stood Lucy. A cardboard sign tells the world: "Someone stole our goose. Please bring Lucy home!" A crying face completes the message.
If the goose were missed by only one family, there would be no need to share this story. But this goose had more outfits than Barbie, and had become one of the top smile-makers in Squirrel Hill.
Green for St. Patrick's Day, a wedding dress in May, cap and gown in June, Lucy was forever styling. She became a bunny at Easter and a pumpkin around Halloween. She could be a cow, a bumblebee and even attempted an impression of Jerome Bettis. Lucy had about 20 outfits, including a rain slicker.
"It's just a charming thing," said Sidney Mullen, 80, a fan who lives a couple of blocks away. "It was just a pleasant touch in the neighborhood, a sign of life really."
Getting a gander of Lucy's wardrobe changes became a ritual for Sidney and Eleanor Mullen, so when they drove by one day and Lucy was gone, and soon the sad little sign appeared, they lost a reason for grins.
"That somebody would take a tiny bit of pleasure away from someone, it's hard to believe," Mullen said.
"Something's been a fowl in Squirrel Hill," Tissue said.
Lucy's owners received a call eight nights ago from a friend who thought she'd spied a disheveled Lucy in Shadyside the night before. So Tissue, her husband, Yiannis Kaloyeropoulos, and their daughter, Eleanora, 7, went in search of their migratory bird. Eleanora spotted the goose immediately. Alas, this bird was bigger, with a red beak and "sporting an outfit that Lucy wouldn't have been caught dead in," Tissue said.
Be assured, gentle reader, that the Kaloyeropoulos family has things in perspective. They know that what they've lost is an inanimate object, but it was a diversion that brought delight. Yiannis is a musician and a composer, and his wife puts her heart and soul into her work as executive vice president at Children's Hospital.
"Lucy gave you a nice comical feeling when you came home at night," she said.
That's all, but isn't that plenty? Lucy, a gift from Tissue's sister two Christmases ago, the totem that helped them make new friends when they moved to this house on Memorial Day weekend 2000, the bird that made motorists slow down and kids run up, now exists for this family only in memory and photos.
"If [the thieves] brought Lucy back, we would ask no questions," Tissue said. "Hey, we would give a $10 reward if they would bring our Lucy back."
When I left the Kaloyeropoulos' home, an electrician was just arriving to prepare for the installation of a motion detector and light for the front lawn.
And, to think, the ancient Greeks and Romans kept geese as sentries (though none dressed as Minnie Mouse, as far as we know.)
Brian O'Neill's e-mail address is boneill@post-gazette.com.
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