Hey fam,

Paws for drama: I’m nose-deep in a Spencerville mystery where Bella Mia vanishes, lights flash Morse at the Deli, and shadows whisper. Turns out, I’m a tail-waggin’ detective in this pup-thriller. Stay tuned for the bow-wow of our barkin’ good adventure. 🐾🕵️‍♂️

Catch you on the flip-flop,
Mr. Wiggles 🐶✨

Listen to the story here

If these eyes could slap you with tales, I’d serve you a feast.

I woke up as the sun besieged Spencerville, cracking the sky like a hazelnut, with the town beneath it stirring softly like the cream in your morning Joe. High in my loft at Fawn Pug Palace, my bed still warm, I stretched my paws, careful not to topple the nearly holy relic beside me – a raccoon toy baptized in drool and dreams.

Ears perking up, I sensed the electricity in the air – the kind that doesn’t just make your fur stand on end but twitches the soul. I was already sniffing out a whiff of weird on this breezy morning.

Bounding down the Fawn Pug’s majestic steps, I exited with the grace of a stag. The streets of Spencerville embraced me like an old jazz record; familiar, yet always ready to play something that makes you cock your head to one side.

The big kahuna of the news ripples was that Bella Mia, my staggeringly elegant canine confidante, hadn’t sashayed her way through our neighborhood this morning. Not at Shih Tzu Stadium, not at Greyhound Grove, nowhere. Now, this wasn’t just strange; it was like sunshine without warmth, or dog bowls without kibble. A foul play, perhaps?

I hit the streets, my tuxedo coat gleaming like the polished shoes of a moonlighting saxophonist. The town thrummed as I greeted the usual suspects. There was the Poodle posse, yapping over espresso at The Canine Cafe – revolutionary ideas flowing freer than the organic chicken broth.

I ducked into The Howling Husky Hardware Store, eyes darting as I sniffed around, casing the joint for any sign of foul play. My paws padded on the dew-fresh floorboards, my heart keeping beat like a jazz drummer’s solo.

But it was over at Pup-Cakes where the main scoop plopped – a gooey plot twist served steamy. As I strutted in, the air was sickly with the aroma of peanut butter and the collective gasp of the crowd. The cream of the Spencerville crop, nosed in there for gossip and a morning munch, were all atwitter about lights – flickering lights at Doggy Bagel Deli last night, unusual, erratic, as if the joint was winking morse code to the moon.

“No ordinary electrical snafu”, murmured a Pekingese who fancied himself a philosopher.

Was it the usual Spencerville spectral spookery, or something spicier? My gut growled with anticipation – or perhaps just hunger.

I made for The Doggy Bagel Deli, with purpose swelling my step like pride does a parade. The Deli, silent as a held breath. The flickering had drawn a close; the neon sign now hung steady with its pink glow.

There, in the shadowed booth at the back, I spotted her: Bella Mia, eyes wide as saucers, fur brushed by fear. She relayed the twisted tale of last night’s flickering frenzy – shapes, shadows, and eerie howls, not of this Spencerville-world.

A mystery tapestry, well-woven, was coming to a frayed edge, unraveling like sanity on a tight leash. Was this the Stranger Pets? The unspoken yarn of Spencerville?

I tucked my tongue in my cheek, a habit when my terrier blood scents a challenge. Yes, Destiny had honked her car horn and with a paw on the throttle, I was more than ready to ride shotgun.

We’d follow the scent of this caper, Bella Mia and I, to the ends of Spencerville or wherever this rabbit hole led. With hearts big as our barks and courage steeled in the fire of our yearnings, this was more than a frolic in doggy paradise. It was an adventure, a tail-wagger, a dusky dive into the unknown.

And as I sauntered out with Bella Mia by my side, the sky dared to darken, a whip of a storm on the horizon – perhaps more than meteorological, perhaps something… stranger.

The End.