Hey Mom,

Just wanted to let you know I’ve been up to some good around here—helped a couple of humans find their way and discovered a new park with the best sticks ever! Making friends and wagging tails every step of the way.

Love,
Rubbie 🐾

To the untrained eye, Pawsburg might seem like an ordinary town inhabited exclusively by dogs, but trust me, there’s much more lurking beneath its fluffy surface. I’m Rebel, a Golden Retriever with a mohawk that traces down the bridge of my nose, thanks to a persistent cowlick. I’ve been sworn in as Pawsburg’s top detective.

It was a chilly evening at Bloodhound Bluffs when the call came in. I had just settled down with a freshly fetched tennis ball from Ruff and Tumble Toy Store, trying my paw at some sunbathing as the last rays dimly shone through the clouds. Bailey, an Ibesian Hound and my best pal, barked into my ear with urgency.

“Rebel, you won’t believe this. Another dog down at Doberman Dunes disappeared! The town whispers of a sinister beast, a serial kibble snatcher!” She paused, letting the gravity of the situation echo.

We had been grappling with rampant kibble thefts for months now. When a dog went missing, rumors spread — and not the happy, wag-your-tail kind. So, I trotted over to Pup’s Poutine to gather my thoughts. Comfort food, you know? I was enjoying a plate piled high with cheese curds and gravy when I caught a wag of Remington’s tail from across the street at Chowhound’s Chophouse. Rem was a Red Golden Retriever with a penchant for trouble.

“Yo, Rebel!” he barked as he galloped over with a sly grin, his coat shining a bit too red for comfort under the streetlights. “Heard about the dunes. Got a lead for ya. But you didn’t hear it from me.”

I knew Rem had an insatiable appetite for mayhem, but also an inexplicable knack for sniffing out trouble. He handed me what seemed to be a gnawed-off collar tag. It read, “Chaos.” My fur bristled. Chaos was a White Pomeranian, Pawsburg’s very own trouble magnet and my not-so-loveable sibling.

“Alright, buddy,” I said, nuzzling the tag closer to my fur for safekeeping. “We need to sniff around Setter Shore. Our suspect loves the water, and, well, let’s just say Chaos is not exactly known for his dry spells.”

Together, we padded towards Setter Shore’s crashing waves and salty breeze. I enlisted Wolfie, another Golden with a tan, brown, and gold blend coat. He always had his nose close to the ground, both figuratively and literally, and we needed that nose.

Questions barked in my brain — who had the scruff to pull this off, and what was their bark and bite ratio? As we reached the lighthouse, I saw a silhouette: small, white, furry. It could only be Chaos. Only, he looked scared instead of mischievous.

“Rebel!” he yelped. “The dog… It’s not me! I didn’t take the kibble!” He then collapsed, quivering on wet sand, his fur looking more like an overused mop head.

Bailey, who had sneakily joined our squad, sniffed the air. “I scent human food nearby.” I locked eyes with Rem, who shrugged as if to say, “Why not?”

We veered towards the scent and found our suspect hiding among wooden crates—Shadow, my rather brooding sibling, trying to look innocent. Only Shadow didn’t need kibble. He was after something more… personal.

“Shadow,” I started diving nose-first into investigative mode. “Explain before we bounce you over to The Elegant Elephant Pet Boutique for a makeover you won’t forget.”

Shadow spilled everything, including last night’s leftover kibble and cheese curds. He wasn’t our thief, just a hijacker of human food — a lesser crime in my case files.

With Shadow cleared, I whipped out a Pawsburg map and pressed a paw down. “All drool leads to Barking Brunch. Our perp loves good food gone wrong.”

As expected, amidst the flurry of raised tails and wagging tongues, we found the true culprit: a rogue—an emaciated stray from outside Pawsburg. His story was sad, heart-breaking even, but in Pawsburg, we dealt justice swiftly and kindly. I escorted him to The Loyal Companion Photography Studio, where we offered him a second chance and a fluff overhaul.

We went home, tails wagging in unison. Pawsburg’s mystery was solved, the threat extinguished. But if you think Rebel the Golden Retriever with a penchant for food and adventure would rest, you’d be dead wrong. After all, there’s always another tennis ball to chase and another mystery to bury.

And as always, I returned to my human mom’s side just as she woke up, none the wiser. Some tails are best left untold.