Hey Dad,
You’ll never guess what I got up to last night! Jack and I busted an underground fetch tournament ring in Pawsburg. Muttson the bulldog tried to stop us, but we outsmarted him and saved the day! Don’t worry, I’m back home now, snuggling up on the couch. A hero’s work is never done! 😏🐾
-Bella

Sleep hadn’t even arrived before I heard the faint tick-tock of Dad’s alarm clock winding down another minute. Clock-watching was a habit I’d learned from him—if you’re going to get things done, keep an eye on the time.

“Paws it,” I muttered, nudging the clock with my wet nose. The moment Dad’s head hit the pillow, I knew it was time. Quietly, I slipped through the doggy door and into the luminescent twilight of Pawsburg, ready for whatever the night had in store.

The neon lights of Newfoundland Nook were already buzzing, illuminating the cobblestone streets with a dreamy brilliance. I dashed past a group of pups outside Pooch’s Pub, their collars glinting like medals of honor as they chowed down on savory bacon-wrapped bones. They didn’t notice me; good, I preferred the low profile.

“Hey Bella!” a familiar voice barked from the shadows.

“Jack, you sly dog,” I whispered back, acknowledging my best friend, a scrappy terrier with a penchant for trouble that matched my own. Tonight, however, our mission had a more serious bite. The whispers had been growing louder in Pawsburg’s underbelly. The tail-wagging heroes of Topaz Terrier Town had been forced into a cat’s cradle of illegal fetch tournaments. Those stakes were too high to ignore.

Jack and I raced to Jade Jack Russell Junction, the supposed nerve center of this illicit activity. The streets twisted unpredictably, and the scent of freshly baked dog treats wafted from the Puppy Patisserie, a reminder of simpler pleasures. But we had no time for indulgence now; my mind was set on cracking the case.

Arriving at The Doggy Depot, we slipped through the back door.

“Look alive.” Jack said, our tails lowered and ears pricked for any signs of trouble. Just as we turned a corner, a shadow shifted.

“Muttson,” I growled lowly, recognizing the burly bulldog enforcer. The brute had a bad habit of muscle-flexing his way into the wrong side of Pawsburg’s dealings.

“Bella, did ya really think you could just wag in and shut us down?” Muttson smirked, but it was a mask, and I’d seen it slip before.

“No, I planned on tearing it apart,” I replied, stepping closer, my muscles tense and ready.

A showdown seemed imminent until out of nowhere, the sharp, mechanical whirr of my sworn enemy—the vacuum cleaner—filled my ears. Startled, I looked around.

“It’s a trap!” I barked urgently at Jack, who’d already started moving. We dashed through the labyrinthine alleys until we hit the open expanse of the park—the one place I knew as well as my own paw pads.

Evidently, Muttson hadn’t learned the lay of the land. He sped past a tree that I knew had a slight dip on its far side. Seizing the opportunity, I leapt into the air, tackling him head-on. Jack joined the fray, his teeth flashing as we pinned Muttson to the ground.

“The jig’s up!” Jack snarled, nudging the dirty contract slipped out from Muttson’s collar. Fetch tournaments, rigged races, all of his crimes laid bare on paper.

With a triumphant bark, I watched as Jack summoned the Host’s of the Hound, Pawsburg’s regulatory pack. They arrived in no time to secure a proper collar-lock on Muttson, finally putting an end to his reign of terror.

Just like that, calm returned to Pawsburg.

I felt the familiar wind pick up as the night turned into dawn. Car rides and afternoon sunbathing awaited.

Back home, I slipped through the door, nestling next to Dad on the couch. He stirred, scratching my ear with that perfect touch. As the first rays of dawn began to peek through the window, I let out a contented sigh.

Another day, another adventure. And wouldn’t Dad get a kick out of hearing about this one?

The End.