- Dog Tales
- January 18, 2024
Pawsburgh Noir: The Tail-Wagging Detective: A Lokie PawWord Story
Hey Mom & Dad,
Solved the Case of the Pilfered Marrow Bones here in Pawsburgh! Turns out your son is part-detective, part-hero, sniffing out trouble in a tail-waggin’, bone-burying noir adventure. The town’s thieves didn’t stand a chance against Lokie, the terrier with tenacity. Sending tail wags and kisses your way!
Keep those treats coming,
Lokie 🐾
A shade of grey painted the sky in moody strokes as I navigated the mist-shrouded streets of Pawsburgh, the murmur of dawn still clinging to the cobblestones. It’s a town that never really sleeps, filled with tails that wag in the dark and whispers that scurry on four paws. I’m Lokie – fur of the earth and midnight, an eye for adventure, a nose for trouble.
I made my way across Kelpie Keys, the drawbridge creaking beneath my paws, the scent of excitement in the air. Today wasn’t about the usual frolics and games; it had its teeth bared with whispers of tough-skinned marrow bones going missing and I intended to sniff out the culprit. Every good noir tale needs a mystery, and in Pawsburgh, I was the terrier mix you’d call to dig one up.
You see, I’m not your ordinary tail-wagger. When the hard-boiled hounds lost their way, when the pedigrees played too close to the fire hydrant, they came to me. It was on a hunch I troted over to Dachshund’s Deli. They said the meat here could make a dog forget his own tail, but I was there for a taste of information, not indulgence.
“Pawsburgh’s gone to the hounds, Lokie,” grumbled the old basset behind the counter as he served me a bowl of leftovers. “Thievery’s the new fetch.”
I chewed thoughtfully, pursuing the thought with the lonesomeness of a pup whose toy had rolled under the couch. “I’m looking to bury that bone for good,” I said, licking my chops.
A tip got my ears perked. Pointer Pier at twilight – the place to track down the scent of fallen treats. Translator: some sour mongrel had a secret he was whimpering to spill.
Now, don’t be fooled; I wasn’t below a belly rub or a game of chase, but the lure of unraveled mysteries was the bacon to my biscuit – irresistible. I strode down Lhasa Lane, my shadow trailing like an obedient pup. I side-stepped a puddle – I’ve never had a liking for swimming, and the sodden sky looked all too eager to shower me in its woes.
The pier was just a whisper on the horizon when out of Woof and Whisker Wellness Center bounded a furball of gossip. The shih tzu masseuse eyed me. “Lokie, hon, you’re barking up a risky tree. Best to let sleeping dogs lie.”
But my name was etched on this case. I wasn’t just another dog chasing cars. I could almost taste the answer, savory as my beloved bacon.
By the time the last light flickered over Pointer Pier, I was ready. The whispers weren’t just rumors anymore; they were barks. The hounds in the shadows hungered for a leader, a top dog…someone like me. But as I watched the murky water below, I realized – Pawsburgh didn’t need another ringleader in the ring of crime. It needed a guardian.
So I waited, the night my cloak, the silence my comrade. When the shifty-eyed pinscher slunk to the end of the dock with his stash of pilfered bones, his crooked tail wagging in the dim light, I knew the game was up.
“Thought you could outwit old Lokie, huh?” My voice was a growl of shadows and justice.
His eyes widened as he realized he was cornered, but it was more than the presence of a terrier mix that startled him. It was the knowledge that Pawsburgh was bigger than him, bigger than me. It was a town of tales, of bark and bond, and no petty thieving mutt could grind that spirit down.
As the authorities trotted him away, I curled up on my favorite patch of sun-warmed boards on the pier. I’d take a short nap, dream those noir dreams. There would be another caper, another mystery, because in Pawsburgh, when one tail ends, another begins.
The End.
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