Hey Mom,

Just cracked the case of my missing squeaky duck in Pawsburg – turned out to be a squeak-seeking Shih Tzu! Returned it with a side of kindness and treats. Guess I’m not just a Frenchie with a secret but a detective with a heart! 😎🐾 Keeping our ‘burb as pawsome as ever!

XOXO,
Miracle 🕵️‍♀️🦴🐕💖

It’s me, Miracle, the French Bulldog with that bewitching half-blue eye. You know, the one that screams “I’ve got a secret,” which, of course, I usually do. This morning I woke up with the taste of adventure fresh on my tongue—well, that and last night’s chicken snack. But never mind that.

Most mornings in charming Pawsburg, I trot out unseen, a shadow with a waddle, to soak up the crisp autumn air. The park is my morning jaunt, but today feels different. As much as I love the serenity of Whippet Way, something’s amiss. Between the scent of fresh pastries from Puppy Patisserie and the comforting sight of familiar tails at Happy Hounds Dog Walking, there’s an undercurrent of excitement. And I intend to find out what’s up.

As I pass by The Fetching Feline Pet Emporium, I remember, last night’s events. How could I forget? Someone snagged my squeaky rubber duck—the one that never leaves my side! In Pawsburg, my squeaker isn’t just some toy; it’s part of my soul. And missing?

This crime, it’s personal.

I spot Bleu over at Mastiff Meadows, her blue coat shimmering in the sun. I trot up, business-like but with a wagging behind, because who can resist?

“Bleu, brace yourself, we’ve got a real whodunnit on our hands,” I announce, proudly using my crime show lingo.

Her eyes widen. “Not the rubber duck?”

“The very one.”

And so, with the stealth of a cat—ew, no, not a cat; something cooler, like a ninja—we set on our sleuthing way. We slink over to Onyx Otterhound Oasis, a place of legendary whispers and cheeky koi fish. No sign of my precious squeaker, but Mrs. Pawsley, the old Beagle who sees all, has a clue.

“I saw a dash of gray, a streak of blue, and a funny yippie!” she tells us with a click of her teeth.

Blue and gray? I muse. That could be anyone here on a Pawsburg morning, or… I gasp. Could it be one of us?

Next stop: Bark-n-Bite Bistro. It’s teeming with breakfasting barkers. We snoop around, and I keep my snout up for squeaks.

“Just sniffin’ out a mystery,” I quip to a curious Collie, who’s too busy with his bone to care.

“Quiet,” Bleu mumbles. “I hear it.”

The faintest squeak. My squeak!

Under a table, shrouded by a curtain of wagging tails, we find the culprit. A shivering Shih Tzu, one eye cloudy, the other sharp as a tack.

Before I confront her, this pup with a tremble and my toy, I remember: loud noises are her nemesis, just like mine. Did she seek comfort in its funny little squeak, just like I do?

I wag my tail, gently take back my duck, and leave her with a pawful of my most soothing dog treats. Bleu eyes me, impressed.

“Did you just—”

“Solve the mystery and spread a little Pawsburg cheer?” I bark. “You betcha.”

As we leave the Bistro, the crisp air nips at my paws. I realize that the real miracles here aren’t solved cases or returned toys; it’s the kindness in our hearts and the friends beside us.

Well, that and surviving the return journey with my dignity intact. Have you ever tried holding a rubber duck in your mouth while maintaining a sense of mystery? It’s as challenging as it sounds.

The End.