Hey Mom! Just cracked a pet high-society heist, returned Sir Fluff’s diamond collar, and dodged the dreaded ear-cleaning. Scored a lifetime clinic ban like a true Spencerville sleuth. Tail wags and treats are on me tonight! 😎🐾 Love, Ace

Oh hon, you would not believe the shenanigan I got wrapped up in this week – but who am I kidding? Of course you want to hear about it. It all started on a bright, Spencerville morning, with the sort of sunshine that makes you think, “Yeah, this is it. This is the perfect day for a peanut butter and cheese party.” But Fate, with its ever-fickle paws, had other plans for your girl, Ace.

There I was, practicing my award-worthy performance of “Canine In Distress” to get out of an ear-cleaning appointment at the Woof and Whisker Wellness Center, when suddenly, Mrs. Haverhill’s Persian cat, Sir Fluff-A-Lot, frantically scampered up to me – and I mean, in a way that screamed, ‘I regret every life choice that led me to not being a dog.’ Apparently, his custom, diamond-studded collar had vanished into thin air. I’m talking a collar that could buy enough Fetch-N-Bites for the entire population of Bulldog Bay.

Knowing my penchant for sniffing out the truth – and let’s be real, anything that’s been within a two-mile radius of peanut butter – I couldn’t just ignore a critter in need. So naturally, I took the case. Sherlock Bones, they should call me, am I right?

First stop was the scene of the crime: Fawn Pug Palace, an establishment that makes my backyard look like a no-frills dog park. It was obvious that the thief was a smooth operator, someone who knew the ins and outs of the high-society pet life. I mean, you don’t just waltz into a joint with chandeliers in the litter boxes and waltz out with a collar that’s pricier than a lifetime supply of cheese.

I mingled with the locals, throwing out casual inquiries between casual tail wags. See, in Spencerville, your tail can be mightier than your bark if you use it right. A couple of bats of these baby browns and – boom! – tongues were wagging more than my tail ever could.

Then the fluff started to hit the fan. Caffrey, my sibling in crime (and by crime, I mean extreme levels of cuddling), tipped me off about a clandestine meeting at Tail Waggers involving Max, the sneaky Schnauzer who, as the town’s poker champ, has a paw in every shady pie in town.

My sleuthing took me next to Fur Tacos, because hello, their Canine Carnitas are to die for, and because a gal’s gotta fuel her brains and brawn. While savoring the crunch, I couldn’t help but overhear Scarlett, the Chihuahua, gossiping about a suspicious exchange at Bulldog Bay.

Paws and reflect for a moment. The bay? That salty sea dog of a place? It was the perfect spot for a covert trade. Caffrey and yours truly made our way down to the sandy hideout, meandering through the throngs of furballs soaking up the sun. And would you believe it, we caught sight of Max, sneakily passing something sparkly to a none-too-pleased Siamese. Busted!

I called in the cavalry – that’d be the Spencerville Squad of Harmonious Hounds and Felines – and we closed in. Turns out, Max was in a bit of a schnitzel over some doggone poker debt and tried to play ruff.

Long story short, Sir Fluff-A-Lot got his bling back, and let’s just say I got a lifetime ban from the ear-cleaning clinic as a reward – which is basically like winning the Spencerville lottery. All in a day’s work for Ace, the Labrador who serves up justice with a side of hilarious anecdotes. Catch you on the flip side, hooman, there’s a cheese party with my name on it!

The End.