Hey Mom!

Cracked the case of the missing sauce at Bark Burgers! Remember my detective dreams? Totally nailed it. It was the newbie Poodle, channeling her inner villain for her own joint. Saved the savory soul of Spencerville and became a local hero (again). Miss patrolling with Dozer, though. Give my chew toys a squeeze for me!

Licks & Sniffs,
Yaya Detective Extraordinaire 🐾🔍

Listen to the story here

Oh, the sun was streaming with an indecent amount of cheer as I trotted through the gates of Northern Choco Chihuahua Castle, and, as usual, they were serving up scandal with the morning biscuits. You see, something was amiss in Spencerville, something that tickled the edges of my one ear and sent whispers down the Shepherd Skyline.

It started when Bark Burgers, purveyor of the sizzle and crunch that gets my jowls a’ drooling, reported a missing recipe. Their secret sauce, the kind that made tails wag continent-wide, had vanished like a treat under Dozer’s watchful eye. And given that I’m always one for a good sleuthing – Dozer always said I had a nose for it – it seemed only fitting that I, Yaya, should take up the collar of detective.

No one else seemed to sniff out the intricacies of the case, too caught up in the eternal sunshine and the all-you-can-sniff buffet at Paws On The Grill. My usual cohort, Dozer, would have dug up the backyard for clues with me, but these days, he was off chasing celestial squirrels, and I… I was playing detective solo.

Dodging past Happy Hounds Dog Walking, I closed in on Pet Partners Pet Supplies, where the rumors were as stocked as the chew toys. “Yaya,” they said, “you gotta help us solve this one.” See, they knew I wasn’t just any blonde Frenchie with a missing ear; I had a reputation, one built on unconditional affection and a keen eye for detail.

I nestled down at my favorite spot by The Pawfect Training Center to ponder. The sauce – that was the key. And who’d want it? Jealous competitors, a fired chef, maybe just a connoisseur with very poor manners?

“A mystery is only as good as its suspects,” I mused aloud, and a terrier to my left nodded solemnly, mistaking my sleuthing for profundity. I had to immerse myself, think like the thief. Suddenly, my stomach rumbled; it was high time to investigate the crime scene.

Bark Burgers was bustling, as if no crime had been committed. I skimmed the furry patrons for guilty expressions, for twitching tails or nervous licks. But it was not the crowd that caught my attention; it was the silence where a sizzle should be. Dogs were sniffing forlornly at their plain patties. The sauce was the soul of the place, and without it, Bark Burgers was just another eatery.

I made my way to the counter, pressing my luck and my snout into the heart of the matter.

“Excuse me, good sir,” I politely barked. “Might I inspect the kitchen? I believe I can track down your missing condiment.”

The kindly manager, a rotund Spaniel with spectacles, ushered me into the back. And there it was, a kitchen more chaotic than a cat in a yarn store. A Beagle busboy pointed me towards the storeroom, his eyes larger than a full moon at a howling contest.

Nothing’s more thrilling than the chase, they say, unless it’s a sunbeam on a lazy afternoon. But here, sniffing for a hint of thievery, I was invigorated, alive. The storeroom was a forest of ingredients, but of the secret sauce… not a drip.

I took my inquiries to the staff, a team as diverse as the toys in a pup’s basket. Crumbs of information fell, an accidentally heard conversation here, a suspicious absence there. It didn’t add up to a hill of kibble until I remembered the key to any good puzzle: Look for what’s not there.

The sun set behind Lower Silver Siberian Summit with a fiery furor as clarity struck. It wasn’t about who took the sauce – but who wanted the sauce gone. I pattered back to the kitchen with a gentle growl. A newbie, a Poodle with aspiration in her eyes, stood out, not for her jitters, but for her pristine apron in a splattered room. She was starting her own diner – sans sauce.

I unveiled her plot with the grace of a paw lifting to uncover a hidden treat, and there it was: innocence restored, and Bark Burgers’ soul returned within a day’s work.

The Spencerville Gazette would recount the tale in thrilling doggerel, but for me, it was another day, another mystery cooking in the splendid town where I lay my head, dreaming of car rides and awaiting reunions. The sun still shone, and as I sprawled in the serenity of my favorite spot, a dish hearty with secret sauce by my side, I felt somewhere out there, Dozer was wagging his tail in pride.

The End.

Share This Story: