by E.S. Gardendigger

I was working late one night at the office. It was after 8 P.M. My name is Nick. That’s short for Nicolai Nicolovitch the 3^rd…..or something like that. I’m a Siberian Husky private eye. I came from a large family of seven huskies. All the others were champions, CD’s (not compact disks), or SD’s (super dogs). I was picked up as a pet by a cop. After watching him bungle case after case I decided I could put the bite on criminals better than he could. That’s how I came to be working this night at the K9 Detective Agency.

I was putting the finishing touches on a crossword puzzle from Detective Dogs Annual…trying to write the last word in the puzzle with my left paw. I’d been working on this for two weeks and almost had it right…it was hard to resist the urge to chew the pencil before I got the word out. I had already gone through one dozen boxes of pencils on this puzzle. All of a sudden, I heard a knock at the door…actually it sounded more like a scritch, scritch screeeeeech. Must be a new customer. I padded over to the door and jumped up to the handle. I grabbed the knob with my teeth and turned my head…darned humans don’t know how to make a door knob for dogs. I opened the door…ouch…the door jammed against my paws. Sooner or later I’m going to get the hand of getting my back feet away from the door when I open it. There sitting in the doorway was the most beautiful Siberian Husky bitch I’d every seen. Brown hair, bushy tail, soft amber eyes and the nicest earset you ever did see…she was enough to give me pleasant dreams for the rest of my days.

"What can I do for you?" I woofed.

"Lots," she growled softly.

"Won’t you come in and sit down?"

She padded over to my favorite chair and jumped up on it. She was all business. "My name’s Ou-la-la Sibe," she said, "I want you to find my canine crunchie. I’m willing to pay anthing."

I thought about it for a minute. This could be a tough case. There aren’t many canine crunchies around. "Where did you last see it?" I asked. "In my make-up bag at the Alberta Kennel Club dog show at the Calgary Stampede Roundup Centre," she replied.

"When did it disappear?"

"Some time between 3 and 7 P.M. this afternoon, while I was winning best in show," she woofed haughtily.

"Well, maybe we should start at the scene of the crime. Let’s go back to the roundup centre and see what we can find."

We caught a sled in front of the office and mushed over to the dog show. The lead dog wasn’t impressed when I paid him in old dog tags. "And keep the change," I howled. I just love doing that to arrogant lead dogs. We went around the back of the building to the service entrance. Luckily for us, one of the show entries was out exercising his handler. We tagged along and he told us how his human had messed up in the ring and cost him a ribbon. "Next time, I’m getting someone who knows how to heel," he whispered. We followed them into the building and quickly made for my client’s benching area.

"Is this where you last saw your crunchie?" I inquired.

"Right over there in that black make-up bag," she answered.

I sauntered over to the bag and gave it my best snifferoo. Aside from the smell of Cosmic Hair Groom, there was no trace of any canine crunchie. I gave the place the once-over. There was no canine crunchie to be found. "Maybe the culprit took it home with him," I suggested.

"Yeah," she moaned.

I felt like a real louse not being able to help her. Suddenly an idea popped into my head. I didn’t want her to feel let down. "Let me take you out to dinner and we’ll talk about where it might have gone?"

"Great," she howled, "I’m famished."

"I know a great little joint just down the street called the ‘Chow Chow Palace’, serves the best Chinese food in town."

"Let’s go," she growled hungrily.

We sauntered out the door and down the street like two old friends. She had a way of putting four on the floor that made you forget to watch out for dog catchers. When we got to the restaurant she hesitated as I walked around the back. "Just as I thought," I said to her. "The pickings are the best this time of night," as I tipped over a can and buried my head up to my ears in the smorgasbord. I could see the thoroughly disgusted look on my client’s face. She was obviously used to maid service. "Mmm, this is great," I mumbled, slobbering all over myself, "I haven’t had friend rice in weeks."

She finally relented and joined me. We slurped and chewed and chomped to our hearts delight. After having turned over every can in the alley we called it an evening.

"That’s the best feed of whatever it was that I’ve ever had," she purred sexily.

"Let’s go back to the office and discuss how we’re going to get your crunchie back," I suggested…and maybe a little sniffy-sniffy too I thought.

The next morning we went back to the show building. My client went to her benching area to get ready for the show. I decided to nose around to see what I could dig up. With all these dogs around, no one would notice a slightly unkempt Siberian wandering around. I walked up and down the aisles keeping a sharp eye out for anything out of the ordinary. That was just about everything. I sniffed the breath of every dog I got close enough to. No sign of canine crunchie breath on any of these dudes although some of them certainly had a bad case of human mouth. In one aisle I saw a Doberman getting his ears bandaged. Must have been in a terrible fight, I thought. Wonder what the other guy looks like. When I got back to my client’s benching area, all the other Sibes had arrived. I watched as one not so pretty girl had her whiskers torn off her face by her human. I growled when I saw this. What a way to treat a dog. On another table, a human was dipping his Sibe’s feet in white yuck. I don’t know how he stood for it. Still another Sibe was getting his teeth cleaned. What an insult! It made me glad that I had never become a show dog. I went over to the ring to watch the parade. In went the boys…

then the girls…then the winners. When it was all over, my client was again chosen best of breed. I couldn’t fault the judges for that. She said she had to stick around for group and then for best in show. This gal sure was confident. Just then a pink french poodle pranced by.

"There goes my competition," Ou-la-la whispered. "Yesterday, I beat her out by licking the judge at just the right time. You have to know all the tricks," she said assuredly.

"What’s her name?" I asked.

"She’s called La Pousse Pouffe by her friends," she replied. "I call her Puff."

Well, I thought, that presents a definite motive…jealously. I decided to follow to see what I could find out. Her human took her to an area set up for us to relieve ourselves. A special table was set up for the girls to powder their noses. Not being the bashful type I decided to be sociable and join Puff in the lavatoire. "Hi," I said. "Seen any good shows lately?"

"I don’t talk to scruffy looking Sibes like you," she huffed right in my face. With that she turned around and stalked away. I followed at a distance trying to analyze in my mind that breath just blown in my face. When I saw where she was benched I returned to the ring to watch my client again win best of group.

"Got any leads?" she asked.

"Maybe, when is the best in show judging?"

"In half an hour," she answered.

"Well, I’ll see you later." I sauntered back to the Puff’s benching area and watched her human lead her away to the best in show judging. No one was watching, so I decided to nose around. I looked in her crate…nothing in there. I sniffed at her make-up bag…no trace of the crunchie smell. As I was about to give up, I noticed a suitcase behind her crate. I gave it my best snifferoo. Something smelled vaguely familiar. I reached behind the crate and pulled out the suitcase with my muzzle. How to get this thing open. I stepped on the catch…sproing. Now the other side…sproing. They don’t teach this in obedience school. The top came open and out fell a menagerie of trophies, ribbons, prizes, pictures, pedigrees and…the crunchie. Just as I thought. I quickly snapped up the crunchie before anyone started asking questions and carried it over to the best in show ring just as Ou-la-la pranced out with another best in show ribbon.

"Oh, Nick, you’ve found it," she cried. "This is the perfect end to a perfect show weekend, how can I ever thank you?"…………….

Well, that just about wraps up this case. We went back to my office where I lit a fire in my fireplace, turned off the lights and put on some soft music to chew by. What better ending to a tough day than to share a canine crunchie with a beautiful Sibe to the tunes of the Three Dog Night.

Er…I’d like to change that to a Two Dog Night……….THE END.