Hey Ma,

Just wrapped up a wild night solving the mystery of the vanishing vittles at Golden Grub. Caught a squirrel red-handed—turns out it fancied a feast in the kitchen! Gave it a stern talking-to and invited it to share our table, no more hocus pocus promised. Headed back for some Z’s with my trusty sidekick, the stuffed squirrel. Gotta say, never a dull moment in Pawsburgh!

Sweet dreams, your little detective,
Pika 🐾💤

Listen to the story here

When the moon whispered secrets to the slumbering world, I, Pikachu, left my warm cushion, for the night’s blanket called out to the sleuth in me. With a stretch and a yawn, my night had begun, into the clandestine wonders of Pawsburgh I would run.

At the stroke of midnight, the scent of adventure drew me to Mastiff Meadows, where the grass danced in silvery swathes, akin to my mother’s whispered lullabies. My paws scarcely touched the dew-kissed turf as I made for Setter Shore, where the waters lapped secrets upon the sand.

There, I met Max. “Trouble’s afoot,” he uttered, nose twitching with every syllable. I wagged my reply – trouble was my call, my siren’s song.

We bounded through Weimaraner Woods, under arbors cloaked in mysteries. “So, what’s the caper this evening?” I asked. Luna, elegant as ever, joined our midnight caucus, her legs casting shadows that tangoed with the trees.

She spoke of the Golden Grub, where dishes vanished into thin air. Not a trace nor a scrap – as if the ghosts of meals past had returned in a culinary haunt. We set off at pace enough to raise more than mere dust, towards the heart of canine cuisine.

As we crept past the Dachshund’s Deli, my stomach growled louder than Max at mailmen. But the lure of the puzzle at paw held stronger sway than savory, sniff-worthy treats.

Pet Partners Pet Supplies was shut tight; all was still at The Dapper Dog Salon and not so much as a whisper at The Pampered Pooch. Yet, as we approached our gastro-destination, the air held a taste of something amiss.

We peered through the window. The moonlight draped over empty tables, eerie in the hush. Then, the faintest sound – a giggle, or perhaps a hiccup – from the shadows.

We entered with all the stealth of our kind, beneath the sign that proclaimed “Golden Grub – where the bowls are never empty!” Luna took the lead – she moves like a thought, swift and soundless. Through the dining area, we inched toward the kitchen.

The door, slightly ajar, creaked a greeting. Within, a vision to unhinge the most stoic of hounds. Platters hovered like lazy bumblebees over the counters; spoons stirred with no paw to guide them. And amidst the culinary chaos, a diminutive figure – me!

But not me, for this doppelgänger bore an impish grin distilled from my own. It lifted a paw, and a fork danced with peas (those treacherous greens!). The mimicry was uncanny; a puppeteer of produce and proteins.

“By my curly-tailed ghost!” I exclaimed, “What sorcery is this?” My friend’s fur bristled with unanswered queries. Luna’s whisper was akin to the caress of moonbeams. “An astral trickster,” she guessed, wise as the night is long.

I approached my twin, courage embroidered in every step. “Reveal yourself, charlatan,” I demanded, a touch of Dorothy Parker dryness in my tone, though I trembled like a leaf in a storm.

With a shimmy and a shake, the illusion fell, and before us stood – a squirrel! Not the stuffed companion of my daylight conquests, but a real flesh-and-fur rogue – the bandit of the Golden Grub!

“Impressive,” I admitted, a nod to the knavery before us.

Max boomed, “It ends now, squirrel!”

But Luna stilled him. “Let the creature explain.”

In a chitter, the rodent spoke of hunger, of the cold woods, and of finding sanctuary amidst the aromas of our communal feast. A pang of sympathy struck my heartstrings, for what are we but creatures in pursuit of sustenance and solace?

Let it not be said that Pikachu lacks heart. “You may dine with us,” I declared. “But no more witchery, lest you wish to be chased by a poodle’s bark.”

Max scoffed, Luna smiled, and the squirrel? It nodded.

As the sun stirred on the horizon, secrets settled back into Pawsburgh’s embrace, and I returned to my cushion, the stuffed squirrel tucked under my paw. “You shan’t believe the night we had,” I whispered to it, as my eyelids drooped. And in the world of dreams, I continued my sleuthing, my palate reserved for chunky chicken treats – carrots be damned.

The End.