Hey Ellie,

Just wrapped up the Great Pawsburg Pie Heist – turned out to be a real shell game with painted green beans! 😉 The Samoyed Syndicate couldn’t outfox your top dog. All in a night’s work when you’ve got a nose for truth and a tail that can’t stop wagging at the scent of victory. Pawsburg sleeps soundly tonight, thanks to yours truly.

Over & out,
Cu-bone 🐾🕵️‍♂️✨

Listen to the story here

The sun dipped below the horizon in Pawsburg, painting the sky in hues of deep orange and pink – a backdrop that could make even the toughest tail-wagger stop and stare. It was just another evening in this enchanted doggy domain, but for me, Cubbie, it wasn’t just ANY evening. No, tonight was the night of the Great Pawsburg Pie Heist, and I was on the case.

I strutted down Jade Jack Russell Junction, my paws hitting the cobblestone streets with purpose. My nose twitched, catching the scent of mischief in the air, a scent as tantalizing as grilled chicken breast on a Sunday afternoon barbecue.

“Evenin’, Cu-bone,” Rusty barked, his golden coat glinting under the street lamps.

“Rusty,” I replied with a nod, never breaking stride. We Mini Aussies can’t afford to dilly-dally, after all. “Got word on the heisted pie?”

Rusty wagged his tail with vigor. “Rumor has it, the Samoyed Syndicate’s behind it. Pie’s probably stashed somewhere near Diamond Doberman Dunes.”

A nefarious plot indeed, I mused. Pawsburg’s pies were legendary, and to snatch one was to poke the bear – the big, cuddly, teddy bear that loves pie.

I made my way toward Doggie Diner, Pawsburg’s hub of culinary delights, to sniff out more clues. The diner, buzzing with yips and barks, fell silent as I breezed in. It wasn’t every day a dog detective of my caliber sauntered through their doors.

“Gracie,” I barked at the dachshund behind the counter, “heard about the pie?”

Her ears perked up. “Yeah, Cubbie. Saw a suspicious group headed towards Samoyed Square. They were packed tighter than sardines in a can.”

Bingo. I thanked her with a slick, charming grin and bolted out faster than you could say “fetch.”

Samoyed Square was tranquil, save for the faintest whiff of blueberries – the missing pie’s signature filling. Tiptoeing around, I spied a familiar figure on a bench: Whiskers, the tabby. What was a cat doing in a dog’s world? Just Whiskers things, I suppose.

“Cubbie!” Whiskers meowed, waving a paw with uncharacteristic excitement. “Check the Furry Friends Art Gallery. I overheard some canines talking in hushed woofs about a… shall we say, ‘high-fiber’ filling?”

The irony wasn’t lost on me. High-fiber? Could this mean…?

I raced to the gallery, mind whirring like a doggy-do when the treat jar opens. Slipping through the shadows, I got to the heart of the building and there it was. The pie, half-hidden behind a paw-painted portrait of a pug.

I approached and sniffed – my suspicions confirmed! The “blueberries” were nothing but… painted green beans! The most cunning disguise! The Samoyed Syndicate had gone too far this time.

Using my well-honed rope toy tug skills, I wrestled the pie into the light, revealing the deception.

“Cubbie saves the day!” someone barked as a chorus of applause erupted from the concealed crowd of Pawsburg’s finest four-leggers. They’d been watching, undercover, waiting to see if I could crack the case. I stood tall, basking in the glow of my triumph.

Later, back at Pup’s Paella, Rusty, Whiskers, and I recounted the adventure over sumptuous dishes (strictly no green beans). I spun the tale with the flare of an old-soul storyteller, my voice carrying through the night.

In Pawsburg, even a simple pie heist could turn into an epic tale of cunning and nose-led detective work. But hey, that’s just a day in the life for Cubbie, Pawsburg’s top dog detective, where every chase leads to a new adventure and every sunset promises more tales to tell my guardian, Ellie.

The End.