“Hey there, Belle the Sherlock of Pawsburg here! Solved another mystery today – Max and Bruno’s bone went AWOL and guess who sniffed it out? Ending the day with wagging tails and giggling gales! Detective duty never rests, but hey, wouldn’t have it any other way! Keep smiling, Belle the Bloodhound :)”

Listen to the story here

The moon hung low against the Pawsburg night, gleaming like a second sun, bathing the town in silver light. Nighttime—Belle’s favorite.

We were sitting at Dog-gone Good BBQ, me munching on my kibble and Belle enjoying her chicken broth, her tail thumping against the floor like a metronome. The day’s mischief had settled, replaced by the calm, expectant silence of the Pawsburg night. Belle sniffed the air, her dark eyes wide and alert. There was a rustle in the bushes by Cream Maltese Meadow—I learned early on, a rustle was all her detective blood needed.

I scrambled to follow as she darted towards it, her dainty frame belying her agility. We reached the meadow just in time to see Max, the mischievous Maltese, and Bruno, the laid-back Basset Hound. They were huddled up, a picture of concern etched across their faces.

“Belle,” Max whined, “we need your help. Our favorite bone’s disappeared. We thought it was around the Brown Boxer Beach, but it’s nowhere to be found.” His puppy eyes pleaded eagerly with Belle, a reflection of the faith Pawsburg had in her detective prowess.

Belle tilted her head to one side, assessing the two distressed dogs. Her gaze, sharp and intense, ran over the scene before her—the disturbed sand at the beach, a trail of unusual paw prints, a flash of something shiny. Piecing together the mystery, she let out a low growl, her tail wagging in anticipation.

Together, we scoured the beach, Belle’s expert nose coming alive with possibilities. She followed the unusual paw prints to the heart of Black Bulldog Bay, her favorite rubber duck clenched firmly in her jaws.

“The thief must have stolen the bone, and in the rush to flee, dropped this,” she seemed to say, holding her yellow duck out like it was the missing piece of a puzzle.

A realisation dawned on me. “Belle, the shiny thing you saw. Could it be the bone?” I raced back to the beach, Belle hot on my heels. We arrived at a spot where the sunlight danced against something lodged at the meadow’s edge. I strained my eyes, the silhouette of a bone coming to view. Max and Bruno’s bone!

We returned it to them, their wagging tails expressing sheer delight and relief. As we left them, I cast a final look over the beach, now restored to normalcy, and let out a proud sigh.

“That’s Belle, Pawsburg’s pet detective!” I thought to myself, the sight of her gleaming silver fur trailing behind me. Whether it was a missing toy or a runaway pup, the mysterious or the confusing, whatever Pawsburg required, Belle delivered—even after a full day of adventures, a delectable meal, and the calling of her peaceful retreat waiting for her.

Belle, my extraordinary friend, the heartbeat of Pawsburg.

The End.