“Hey! Cooper, aka Sherlock Hound, here. Just wrapped up a curious case of our missing mate, Winston. Turns out his paws were itching for a taste of royalty at the Corgi Castle instead of his usual spot at the Meadow. All’s well and back to normal after a gripping day. Now, dreaming of grilled chicken from Tail Waggers! – Sherlock Hound aka Cooper”

Listen to the story here

“Nestled snugly in Spencerville, life unfolded for me like a leisurely chase instead of a hunting trip. It was a weekday in the charming town, at our favorite spot, Cream Maltese Meadow. The wind swept across carrying tales of the latest dish at Fetch-N-Bites and I could almost taste the tangy scent of grilled chicken. My gastronomic fantasies were cut short, though, by my sister Ginny’s excited bark.

“Cooper, trouble!” was Ginny’s coded articulation for anything awry in our canine’s paradise. Winston, our Bulldog friend, had mysteriously disappeared and nobody could account for his absence.

The loss of our comrade stirred my hound instincts and united us in a way only a common cause can. Galileo stood tall, eyes gleaming with tension, Max had a clouded look that spelt worry and even Ginny’s vibrant spirit held an undertone of despair. The idyllic utopia we cherished seemed to be under threat. I assumed the role of the lead detective, bringing into rhythm the repetitive pattern of my typical hunting routine, only this time, instead of my rubber rabbit, I was searching for Winston.

Our first suspect: The notorious bee mob – their iconic, hum serving as the trigger to many creatures’ fears, including mine. With a gulp, I led our team to the forbidden Eastern White Westie Woods. The buzzing drones were having just another day, causing havoc into the lives of unsuspecting passersby. As we approached, my fear of bees lay suppressed beneath my determination, I took the plunge into the buzzing chaos and denied the culpability of our adversaries. The bees were innocent.

There was a brief moment when I considered if Winston had just taken an extended vacation at the Doggie Daycare, but it didn’t quite fit, Winston wasn’t one for spas and pampering.

I frequented my rounds at Tail Waggers and The Bark Shak, grilling every customer. Ginny and Galileo flexed their social skills at the Meadow’s meetings and fetch gatherings. Max, being the adventurous soul he was, scouted the nooks only a cat could access. But, we were left frustrated and despondent, our leads drying up.

In a final bid, I led the team to the lair of last resort – The Corgi Castle. We discovered Winston happily living amidst the lavishness of being an honorary guest. He had been fed up of the fuss-free life of our humble meadow and had taken off for a taste of regality.

I was amused but relieved. Our seemingly normal lives had been rife with crime and suspense, but we emerged victorious. Just one more tale in our Spencerville Chronicles.”

Ready for a nap, we all quietly disbanded, each heading back to our corners of Spencerville, our hearts full of the day’s wild adventures and our tummies growling for grilled chicken a la Tail Waggers. I may be an extraordinary Foxhound detective in an imaginary human-like world but at the end of the day, I am just a dog who loves his grilled chicken.

The End.