“Hey Mom, Solved a tough case, toys disappearing in Spencerville. Traced them to Cream Maltese Meadow, found ’em all worming their way underground – weird, right? Everyone’s relieved now. Life of a pet detective, huh? Licking my paws after a busy day, tail still wagging. Catch you on the night bark. Lots of Love, Soph.”

Listen to the story here.

As I strutted paws first into Black Bulldog Bay, I could feel a tension in the air. There was a case to crack, one of those tougher-than-a-stuffed-duck types – and who gets to solve it? That’s right: it’s the regal Sophie, Spencerville’s finest pet detective.

I began my investigation at the Bark ‘n’ Roll, a notorious hotspot for shady chew-toy exchanges and catnip peddling. A Big Mac and French Fries in hand, or rather in mouth, I studied the room. Pets from all walks of life grazed on their meals – the ambiance not unlike that of an old noir film, save for the occasional woof and meow.

Chowing down on my burger, I couldn’t help but think about Pearl. We were two Bulldog peas in a pod, partners in crime, even though she had a peculiar fondness for those vile red spheres they call tomatoes – Ugh!

Whilst battling my disdain for tomatoes, I spotted them – Fat Russell and Lil Dot, as confused as a pup asked to perform a perfect sit on its first day of training. They were on high-alert since their favorite chew toys vanished, a phenomenon that seemed to be plaguing Spencerville of late.

I approached them slowly, almost as cautiously as when a delivery person’s truck pulls up. “Hey there, Fat Russell,” I woofed, my backpack squeaking under the weight of my favorite stuffed duck. “Lost another one, huh?” Lil Dot simply shook her head in quiet despair. Goodness me! The melancholy in the room was almost as off-putting as children trying to pet me without an appointment.

After coaxing out information in exchange for a promise of a trip to The Pampered Pooch Salon, I made my way to Cream Maltese Meadow. A lead suggested chew toys had been spotted there under twilight. It sounded as flimsy as the tail of a Golden Retriever, but it was the only lead we had.

There I was, standing alone in the meadow, Big Mac finished and the moon casting long shadows across the ground. A shuffling behind me caused me to turn – and there they were, hundreds of chew toys worming their way under the earth. Animated by an unexplainable force – a regular Pet X-Files. Pretty sure I laughed harder than a hyena on helium at the sight. I rubbed my eyes for a good few minutes, making sure the sight wasn’t just a side effect of the Big Mac. To my amusement and relief, it wasn’t.

With a hearty woof and a good dose of explanation later, the chew-toy crisis had been averted. Everyone filled Fetch-N-Bites, a sense of calm washing over the Hub. Spencerville was safe, and toys were safe, all thanks to your Sherlock of chew toys, splendid Sophie.

As I settled under the stars of Spencerville, Pearl by my side and a stuffed duck at my paws, I couldn’t help but let out a small sigh. Just another day in the life of a pet detective, they say – if they only knew.

The End.