“Hey Dad, it’s Tango here. Just a heads up, my trusty sidekick Squeakers has gone MIA. I’m suspecting foul play and my nubby tail points at that snooty poodle, Cherie. I’m on a mission to bring back Squeakers to his rightful place. Let’s turn beef jerky and fetch time a delight again. Remember, sometimes adventure isn’t about the walk, it’s about who or what we walk with. Tail Wags, Tango.”

It’s an odd day to begin with when you’re a dog in Spencerville. The sun was shining with a peculiar vibrancy, in a peculiar way dogs have to sense it – yes, peculiar indeed.

I’d always been an adventurer, taking the road less travelled, as Mr. Frost put it, unable to resist the temptation of the unknown. Now, we dogs usually don’t involve ourselves with literature and such but in Spencerville, well, things are a bit different. You see, I’m Tango, the impressive, ever-so-dashing Border Collie, living the epic adventure that is life.

Among the soft hum of ‘Fur Tacos’ and ‘Paws-A-Latte’, my pawsteps echoed with an urgent rhythm. I mean, it’s not a stroll in Maltese Meadow; we’re talking about a post-apocalyptic world here! A fun apocalypse, mind you, but an apocalypse nevertheless.

I could remember the jingle of the leash, the call for ‘walkies,’ which usually means a joyful lap around Golden Retriever River or a fanciful trip to Brindle Brown Boxer Beach. But today was different.

Something was missing. I soon realised that it was my trusty companion, Mr. Squeakers. Far be it from me to extrapolate a possible kidnapping – but honestly, what else could it be? An old squeaky toy doesn’t just go off on its own volition.

With Phoebe and Fred on my tail, I decided to head over to The Fetching Feline Pet Emporium, the last place I remember seeing Mr. Squeakers. He’d recently developed a taste for beef jerky. Conveniently, my favourite too.

Fetch games didn’t seem as amusing anymore. That squeaky sound that once filled me with indescribable joy was now replaced with the hollow silence of my world without him… my dear Mr. Squeakers. A carrot slipped into my beef jerky would have brought me more joy.

With a heavy heart, I meditated on my predicament. While the world around me was ever so… peculiar, I was struck with an idea. Of course! Mr. Squeakers had to have been taken. And I know just who was capable and petty enough to perform this heinous act – that snooty poodle, Cherie.

The game was afoot, my friends! A raggedy squeaky toy fills the heart as much as the fanciest of balls, you know?

Ah, such are the perils of being Tango – the intellectual canine, the escapologist extraordinaire, the determined adventurer on the quest of a beloved toy in peculiar Spencerville. This tale may sound inexplicably improbable, but it’s all just part of the charm of my town. And mark my words – not a poodle, nor a post-apocalyptical world, would stand in my way to be reunited with Mr. Squeakers. Just you wait and see.

The End.