Hi Mom, just wanted to let you know that I’ve been quite the hero lately—helping my humans find their way through some sticky situations with my trusty nose and wagging tail. They call me Ace for a reason! Love, your brave pup 🐾

It was a typical post-afternoon in Spencerville when I got the dispatch from Pooched Potatoes, where I had been enjoying a cheeky serving of meat and cheese —sugar on the bacon, if you will. I had just polished off my kibble when my comm device barked: “Ace, we need you at Lower Silver Siberian Summit. It’s the Pawfile.”

There was a certain tinge of excitement that rattled my coat, like a quick shake after a bath — oh, how I despised baths. But that’s another tale for another time. Duty called as a playful, loyal, and yes, calm FBI dog, all buttoned up in my imaginary suit, regardless of the squeaky toy peeking from my paw.

I darted past Southern Golden Retriever River, where it gleamed gold in the late afternoon — a dog’s delight, that was. The thought of a swim crossed my mind, but I didn’t have the luxury of dog-paddling today; a serial bone-stealer was on the prowl, and my paws had to be on the case.

At Bullmastiff Boardwalk, the scent of peanut butter from Bone Appetit wafted, teasing my elaborate snout, but I trotted on through, finally making it to Lower Silver Siberian Summit. Assistant Deputy Caffrey was already there, his tail wagging in a precise rhythm that only a fellow sniffer could decode: urgency.

“What’s the scoop, Caffrey?” I asked, my ears perked.

“Another victim,” Caffrey said, nodding toward a sprawled-out German shepherd with its tongue hanging out in unmistakable annoyance. “Mr. Shepherd here found his stash of squeaky toys gone. All that remains is this.”

Caffrey extended a chew toy — chewed to bits. The audacity! No respectable dog would ever leave behind such evidence. Only a hardened criminal could destroy a squeaky toy with such disdain.

I took in the scene, my intelligent, friendly brain connecting the invisible dots. “Was there any food missing?” I queried, knowing a pattern when I saw one.

“Indeed.” Caffrey’s subliminal tail communication intensified.

I nodded, as pieces of meat-cheese-and-peanut-butter-flavored scenarios started piecing together a larger, more holistic treat — sorry, picture. “This isn’t just about the toys. This perp,” I said, lowering my voice in a dramatic flair, “has a taste for more than just play.”

We ambled on, collecting clues, a fine-toothed comb about our investigations. It led us to The Pampered Pooch Salon, where one of the stylists mentioned a suspicious yellow Labrador — square-headed and affable, always seen with something in her mouth whenever she was excited. My fur bristled as I realized that the witness was describing… me?

I looked at my reflection and tilted my head, a comedy if there ever was one. Surely, that detail was the product of an affable town’s creativity to resolve mysteries with humor. Ah, Spencerville and its novel ways.

We finally closed in on our suspect near Spa for Paws, where a Pomeranian was seemingly entranced by a particularly elaborate bath setup. Poor creature. I decided to call out, my voice calm and full of authority, “You! Freeze!”

The Pomeranian dropped its jaw, revealing – oh boy – multiple squeaky toys – one of mine included!

“I just wanted to feel powerful,” whimpered the fluffball. “To chew and squeak because my humans aren’t here.”

I softened, my loyalty and playfulness flickering like a twilight revelation. The inhabitants of Spencerville, despite the fun and joy, missed their humans just as much as their humans missed them. I knew at that moment there was no need for punishment, just understanding.

Returning the toys to their rightful owners, I assured them their squeaks would resume in peace. Walking back to my favorite kibble joint, a sense of paw-sitive accomplishment swept over me. The summit was calm again, the River ran Gold, and Bullmastiff Boardwalk was busy as ever.

At the end of the day, I knew Spencerville wasn’t just nearly perfect; it was utterly paw-fect — for everyone, even a misplaced soul needing to chew through his loneliness. And that was something to wag about.