“Hey Mom, been busy being the hero today! Saved the day, outsmarted the cat, found the lost toy, and still had time for my bone. All in a day’s work for Jasperoni!”

I’d just nabbed my favorite toy from the top of Bulldog Bay’s highest rock when I heard it. A faint yelp, a single howl, echoing across Spencerville. I turned in the direction of Chihuahua Castle, my ears standing up and my tail curving slightly.

“Code Red at Labradoodle Lake,” I said, tearing my gaze away from the direction of the sound, broadcasting into my collar’s communicator. I’d learned long ago that when you’re at the top of the pet rescue business, personal interests take the backseat. My heart twisted at the thought of the two-headed sea monster toy lying abandoned on the rock, but it would have to wait.

The team was quick to respond, as always. We’d been through thick and thin together. Faced down the biggest threats in Spencerville, and we’d always come out on top.

“Roger that, Jasper,” Husky Harold’s deep voice crackled in my ear. A shadow swooped overhead, and I looked up to see Frida, the falcon, flying towards our rendezvous spot.

Running full tilt, I reached for an unassuming black and cream doggie bag near the Labradoodle Lake – our secret storage spot, loaded with equipment for our mission. Harness, headsets, miniature tracking devices. Not your average pet gear, I’ll admit. But we aren’t your average pets.

I was in the middle of deciphering the coded distress beacon when my stomach growled. A piece of particularly tempting jerky taunted me from The Doggy Delight. My eyes stayed defiantly glued to the device in my paws while the aroma of cooked meat eddied around me. A cursory glance at the tasty treats, pearls before the swine of the culinary world, was all I could afford before the incoming data pulled me back.

“Target’s location deciphered,” I said, missing the familiar taste of cheese, “K9 Kebabs, behind the grills. Proceed with stealth.”

The final message from The Pawfect Training Center would have to wait as we embarked on another daring mission. I couldn’t help but think how Spencerville was like one big, captivating game of hang the fluffy tail on the dog, where the risks were as real as the twisted green shape of the sea monster I’d been forced to abandon.

Yet, as I looked into my teammates’ eyes – each reflecting the embers of courage – I’d be damned if I’d let anything happen to my city. So, if it meant skulking around back alleys while my favorite toy lay deserted, so be it.

After all, Mission Impossible was our favorite game, and I was, in truth, somewhat fond of the suspense. Who knows? Maybe afterwards, I could persuade Husky Harold to drop by Spa for Paws. I’d heard they have the most exquisite treats… how does one resist the allure of a cheese-flavored doggy bone?