“Hey fam, another day in Pawsburgh done right – cracked a collar caper, chased an ornery tennis ball in public (don’t tell the council), got scolded at The Barking Boutique with Chester. Never dull with this Golden Goofball. Pawsburgh’s mysteries won’t solve themselves! More updates tomorrow. – Top Dog Milo”

Listen to the story here.

It was another spledid evening in Pawsburgh as I, Milo, the pint-sized powerhouse with the heart of a lion looked out from the highest point of Shepherd Skyline, my golden coat reflecting the sunset. Chester, my partner in crime, was right beside me, scanning the horizon.

Suddenly, my sharp Shih Tzu senses picked up a scent. “Aha! Do you smell it, Chester?” I snapped my head around, the wind whirling through my lush fur.

Chester tilted his head, his nostrils flaring. “Milo, that’s the seventh time today you’ve said ‘Aha!’ What are you picking up now? The smell of the pancakes from Pawsome Pancakes?”

“No, dear clueless Chester, it’s a mystery afoot!” I wagged my tail in excitement. My days in Pawsburgh were never dull when I played the detective.

Now, being a Sherlock of sorts, and having a Watson like Chester, who, let’s say, wasn’t always quick on the updates, led to some hilarious moments. Chester was golden, both in spirit and coat, but deductive reasoning wasn’t exactly his strong suit.

We set off downwards to Bone Appetit, a hotspot for gossip and tasty scrambled eggs. I wasn’t particularly enthusiastic about the kibbles they served there, but the eggs, oh my, they were divine.

As we made our way, my tennis ball fell out of my pocket. The set rules in the Pawsburgh manual clearly stated “Rule 8: Balls must not roll unsupervised in the streets of Collie Canyon.” Suspending our investigation for a wow-ment, there we were, detective dog and sidekick, running amok after a wild tennis ball. Every person and dog around being an unwilling audience to our comedic caper.

“I swear this ball has a mind of its own!” I gasped, thudding into a display in The Barking Boutique.

“Rule 28: No canine shall misbehave in public establishments,” the owner, an old English sheepdog, boomed.

Oh, the rules we broke that day, all in the case of retrieving an unruly ball. The air nearly shook with the laughter shared by our friends in Shih Tzu Stadium, Chow Down Chow Chow, and The Pooch Playhouse. A day in my detective life was never complete without a dose of comedy.

Back on track, we trailed the scent to Mr. Whisker’s backyard. A missing collar mystery was unraveled with one sniff, a single leap, and a hearty bark. With that, we headed home through the twilight-lit Pawsburgh, spinning another yarn of laughter and mystery solving, ready to be told the next day.

By the time the moon took over the sky, Chester and I snuck back home, weary but triumphant, ready to sneak off again the next time an ‘Aha!’ was caught by my senses. Adventure awaited us in Pawsburgh always, and we were ever ready for it.

The End.