“Hey Mom! Went on another adventure today, started with a ‘fest at Pooched Potatoes (got teased by Zelda for it) before hearing some juicy spectral gossip from a poodle pal. Prompted a ghost-hunt with Gilbert, who took news of ghost dog harder than news of my eating habits! More exciting than chasing my tail – and got to bite into another treat! 😉 Your hungriest detective, Clovie 🐾”

Listen to the story here.

Well, today’s business began like most days in Spencerville. Gilbert, that handsome hunk of bulldog, was lounging out in Bulldog Bay. I, Clovis, was to join him, but first, I had a more pressing engagement; a visit to Pooched Potatoes.

“Pooched Potatoes! Always the food stops first!” Zelda, my sister, ribbed me with her usual wit.

“Oh, come now, Zelda. A bulldog must keep his strength up for…uh…investigating,” I declared.

She cackled at the ridiculousness of it. The Spencerville adventures of the remarkable canine detective, yours truly, and his noshing habits seemed to be endlessly funny to her.

While enjoying my well-earned feast at Pooched Potatoes, I pondered about the mysteries that accented our lives in Spencerville. Not just any mysteries, but the kind that would make a canine’s hair shimmer. You see, this was my unwavering societal duty.

“I heard something strange happened at the Pupsicle Palace last night,” a voice said. It was a poodle from South Poodle Pond, sitting next to me with an air of intrigue.

“Do tell,” I responded casually, trying to suppress my innate curiosity.

“Whispers of a ghost, seen wandering the place after hours…”

Ghost sightings, South Poodle Pond gossip! I was onto something interesting. The white stuffed bone toy I carried around for moral support felt oddly heavy in my mouth.

This was what made Spencerville exciting. Following clues and dissecting rumors around town. More interesting than a stroll in the park, less alarming than the hustling city, and certainly less wet than those dreaded pools.

I sought Gilbert, lounging under the sun, and informed him of the spectral scoop. He looked at me under his brow, quiet for a moment, then blurted out, “Is that so?” to which I nodded in response, white bone toy clenched between my teeth. He found the whole situation as uproarious as Zelda found my eating habits.

Resolving to investigate, I readied myself to confront the unknown. After all, the canine residents of Spencerville had to know the truth, because an unexplained phenomenon was just another treat waiting to be bitten into.

And me? Well, I was just waiting to bite into my next meal!

The End.