“Dealt with a bike kickstand-eating husky, nearly lost to a sea of illegal broccoli, and raced a thunderstorm home just for a warm lap nap and chicken dinner. Quite a day in Pawsburg! Catch you on the next adventure, until then – Zzz. 🐾 – Little Man”

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So there I am, eyes half-closed, curled up comfortably on mom’s lap, when the midnight hour strikes. Baxter – Detective Baxter, I should say – was needed in Pawsburg. In a dash akin to the swiftness of a cheetah, perhaps a tad less graceful, I took off, though not without minor struggles with that damn vacuum cleaner.

As I’m trotting down Golden Retriever River, making my way to the Pawsburg’s precinct, my thoughts drift back towards my torn lamb chop toy, now languishing without me in the cold backyard, and being drenched in the misty dew, an unfortunate experience I’m sympathetically familiar with.

Once I’d made it to work, I sauntered over to Bark and Bites for my early morning coffee shot – chicken flavored, naturally. No better way to start the day, unless of course there’s a chicken roast, which, mind you, does not come in a paper cup to-go.

My first task was at Woof and Whisker Wellness Center. Somehow, some dog had managed to swallow a kickstand of a bicycle. Now, in Pawsburg law, bicycles were forbidden; too many scary incidents happened because of them. My lost eye can tell the tale, but I’ve sworn never to disclose the details. There I was, staring nostalgia in the face, while a terrified husky whimpered in the corner, partially ingested kickstand visible through an x-ray. The irony wasn’t lost on me.

As the day wore on, I made a pit stop at Happy Hounds Dogwalking, just in time to crack a contraband broccoli ring. The sight of so much green in one place nearly got the best of me, but duty called. Without a moment of hesitation, I dashed in, intimidating the broccoli peddler with my one good eye. The operation was only a minute away from spiralling into chaos when Deputy Snowy, a bumbling Samoyed, came charging in, threatening the broccoli hoarder with a charge of “forced veggie-cide.”

Once the broccoli disaster was managed, I took a slight detour towards Upper Black Bulldog Bay just in time for the sunset. Nothing quite beats the golden hues dancing over the still water at dusk, even through a singular eye perspective.

Thunderclouds soon started rolling in from the Siberian Summit, which meant it was time for my leave. The only thing standing between me and the relaxation of mom’s lap was the journey back, the roar of thunder in distance becoming progressively louder. Nonetheless, I braved through rain, drenched fur sticking to my petite figure, and bolted towards our house with a grumbling voice that participated in the thunder’s ensemble from my belly.

And thus, against all odds, Detective Baxter had survived yet another tumultuous day in Pawsburg. The Chronicles of a Chihuahua Detective continue… while I enjoy a warm chicken dinner, safe and sound in mom’s lap.

The epic adventures of tomorrow are yet to come. But tonight, I sleep.

The End.