Hey buddy, Rueben Stiles here, Pawsburgh’s top pug detective! Just cracked the case of the Purloined Pooch; turned out Boodles fancied a tail-wagging adventure, led astray by the Mutt of Maple Street. All’s well that ends with a wag – Boodles back, Lady Labradoodle’s happy, and I’ve got some deer antlers coming my way. Sniff ya later! – The Sniffer

Oh, the misadventures that await in the cobbled lanes and dog parks of Pawsburgh! My name is Rueben Stiles, esteemed detective of the canine variety, and keeper of the juiciest bones of contention and mysteries in our furry borough. And as I may have made my reputation solving the intangible, let me tell you about the case of the Purloined Pooch.

It was a day like any other in this town run by tails and whiskers, and I was doing the rounds near Briard Bridge, a frolicsome area where pups often dig for gossip. After a delightful stopover at Whippet Wraps – you haven’t lived until you’ve tried their chicken-liver burrito, trust me on that one – my steady strut was interrupted by the disconcerted yaps coming from Diamond Doberman Dunes.

There, I found Lady Labradoodle, her paws in a tizzy, her eyes wider than the bowls at Pup’s Poutine. “Rueben, dear, it’s Boodles, he’s vanished!” she cried, the urgency in her voice prickling my ears more than any rogue flea ever could.

Famed for my sharp wit and sharper sniffer, I was the obvious choice for a mystery so dire. A dog gone missing in our midst? Unthinkable! I reassured her with a pat of my paw before scurrying off to piece together the puzzle.

I had a hunch that I’d find some clues at my usual congregating corners. But first, a brief visit to Collie’s Cuisine was in order – a detective thinks best on a full belly, and I refuse to sleuth on an empty stomach. As I licked the last of the lamb stew from my jowls, the first piece of this canine conundrum fell into my lap, or rather, under my sniffer.

Boodles, the brindle boxer with the floppy ears that couldn’t decide which direction to flop, left behind a telltale scent at The Doggie Daycare. His blanket was there, still warm, with the telltale thread that tied him to his human’s sweater, the one he’d sneakily unraveled with playful nibbles.

I visited Best in Show Photography next, knowing Boodles couldn’t resist a good pose by Shiba Inlet, his silhouette a stark contrast against the water’s edge during sunset. Sure enough, there were snapshots of our missing comrade, but alas, the picture-perfect scene was marked by a peculiar paw print, one not belonging to Boodles.

I wracked my brain, rolodexing through my mental archive of paws. Was it Miss Schnauzer’s? No, too dainty. Herr Doberman’s? Too large. Then, a light bulb! Or let’s say, a glow of a chew toy in the dusk – The Mysterious Mutt of Maple Street, a loner known for taking late-night strolls near the Inlet.

Summonsing assist from my furry compatriots, the trail went warm again. We tracked down the Mutt who was, surprisingly, enjoying a walk with Boodles! Our sleuthing led us to uncover that Boodles had simply been enamored with the tales of adventure and escapism the Mutt regaled him with, and he’d followed our enigmatic friend on a spontaneous escapade.

Guilt-ridden, the Mutt was convinced to return Boodles, not before promising to spin tales at the Pup’s Poutine rather than luring pups into unwarranted wanderlust.

And so, the case closed with a wagging tail and a grateful Lady Labradoodle, lauding my efforts with affection and, much to my pleasure, a promised package of deer antlers that would keep me content till the next mystery landed at my paws.

Remember folks, in Pawsburgh, it’s all about using your snout to sniff out the truth, and nobody does it better than Rueben Stiles, Pug Detective.

The End.