“Hey Mom & Dad, Guess what? I got lost chasing thunder, but my posse rallied. Fel the Cat even halted his nap to spy on me! Turns out, I was at Golden Retriever River. Thankfully, Ollie, the rope-thief, used my chewed-up rope & chicken scent to lure me home. Can’t believe we all teamed up for a pooch in distress, but hey, I’m back! Can we skip fireworks next time? Woofs & Wags, Goosey 🐾”

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Right on the money, humans always think they’re the only ones with problems. Let me tell you about the caper us Spencervillers concocted for our petite, feisty friend, Lucy. Struck me as a fine figure of a dog, her coat so silky, a veritable walking feather bed. Ears that’d give a cornfield a run for its money, draped like that. Could really cook up a storm too, well at least with the whole chicken-broccoli business. Not that I get that combo, but to each their own, I reckon.

We all knew she had a bit of a problem, jittery when the skies got turbulent or somebody got trigger-happy with the fireworks. Big deal, we all have our Achilles’ heels. So, wouldn’t you just know it, when she went missing on a particularly thunderous night, we all knew where she’d be.

Pharaoh, the handsomest doggie at Black Bulldog Bay, rallied the troop, a motley crew indeed. Unexpectedly, the normally aloof Felix found himself caught in this canine drama. Got assigned to surveillance, courtesy of his affiliation with Whiskers and Wings, strategically perched, perfect for reconnaissance.

Mildred, the eccentric African Grey parrot, acting all high-roosted and secretarial in her perch at Pawsome Pancakes, chirping cryptic clues. Did you know she’d feigned retirement to avoid suspicion? Shady bird, indeed, but with a squawk like a foghorn, she was prone to spill the beans.

We uncovered Lucy’s hideout at Southern Golden Retriever River, thanks to a tip-off from Happy Hounds Dog Walking, which had innocuously been recording Lucy’s affinity for the river. It was decided: since I was familiar with the river’s twists and turns, I’d take her favorite chewed-up rope and fetch her back home.

Night had fallen by the time we launched phase two. A full moon reflecting off the river, our secret weapon – Ollie, the notorious rope-thief from Tan Dalmatian Desert – set to work. Slim as a panther, he slipped into the bushes and ‘borrowed’ the rope.

The ruse was a roaring success from the moment Lucy’s sniffing nose pointed our way. She went into a playful frenzy over Ollie’s faux-rogue act, attempted tug-of-war, only to give in when her favorite chicken aroma wafted by, courtesy of Chow Down Chow Chow. We lured her back to civilisation, cue thunderous whistles and howls across the star-studded Spencerville.

Lucy, the bold, beautiful hound who tolerated two things – chicken, even if it meant putting up with broccoli, and a stubborn streak that sang when it was tug-of-war time – was home. The fireworks, well, they were a story for another day. But as I said, we all have our Achilles’ heels, and I’ve always been a sucker for a good old-fashioned rescue mission.

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