While most know me as a Cavalier King Charles Spaniel, who descends from royalty, I’m also somewhat of a detective enthusiast, having cut my teeth on the stories and lore of Detective Sherlock Holmes.
Now, Cook says when it comes to Sherlock Holmes, there is no better actor at portraying him in the cinema than Basil Rathbone. But I think, if they ever make an all-canine version, there would be no one better than yours truly.
For, I am Sherlock to a T!
Which is why I enjoy going on my constitutionals, where I am able to solve crimes of my own. After all, there’s always a mystery afoot!
Today, for example, I noticed a bush with some suspicious activity. It appeared to be missing some leaves, and berries. Wait. Oh crikey, almost forgot. Twas I that ate the berries, and mighty fine, too.
But, I’ve no idea what caused the bush to shed its leaves? No doubt, the result of that maniacal dog that resides next door! It once had me in its clutches, but I, clever dog that I am, managed to escape–with barely my life!
Surely, he purloined them, but for what? Wait. Cook says it wasn’t the dog, but rather, the wind that blew the leaves off. Of course. I knew that all along!
Well, carry on then, Cook. Ah! Here we go. I see one of those beastly rabbits that I often spy at night, hopping out from the shadows—determined to frighten the innocent and royals like me. And this one just gave me the evil eye. Up to no good, I say. Clearly, this rabbit is in search of unsuspecting nobility to lure into its lair, and demand a king’s ransom.
Must investigate further. With nose in position, I cautiously inch closer to the shrub from which the rabbit leaped. Sniff, sniff. Friends, the nose never lies! I suspect a dog has been here, likely held hostage by this cunning bunny.
Wait! Sniff, sniff. Not one dog, mind you, but two! Another sniff and I’ll be able to tell you their breeds.
Sniff, sniff. I’m about to decipher the scent, but—wait! Cook is pulling me away! Confounded, woman! Damn you, leash!
I’m afraid Cook is rather impatient. She knows detective work takes time. Yet, she barely gives me two minutes before she pulls me away. And, though I staunchly dig my paws in, determined not to budge, she is a strong woman, and gets the better of me.
I bark, to no avail, for neither the leash, nor Cook, are to be trifled with. I lose this time, but be fair warned. In the end, the pen is mightier than the sword, which means, I will prevail!
In the meantime, I have no choice but to follow cook. Carry on, then, Cook. I’m sure we’ll find more suspicious activity ahead.
And, soon we do. There’s a dog—a Labrador from the looks of him—and his valet is tossing a ball at him. Not just any ball, but the best kind—a tennis ball! And, I’ll be damned! That ball is mine! Indeed, I recognize that scent anywhere. The thieves, the guttersnipes! I will stop at nothing to get that tennis ball back. I will run and pounce on it, faster than that Lab any day. His valet is throwing the ball and the game is once again afoot! One leap and it’ll be mine! Here I go—I’m off!
No, wait! Confound it! CURSE YOU, LEASH!!
Well then. That was, ahem, humiliating. And, now we’re leaving the park. I didn’t get the ball, tethered as I am to Cook. But, there’s sure to be danger ahead. For I see something moving through the shrubs by the school for ragamuffins—those wee ones that I often see lollygagging about, who often ask Cook if they can pet me and do so with such grimy hands.
Something is definitely amiss, my friends, as I see the shrubs being jostled about—what can it be? A bloody rabbit? An unsavory squirrel?
Or, could it be my arch nemesis? YES! That’s it. It’s Moriarty, my mortal enemy–disguised as a cat!
So, Professor Moriarty, we meet again.
Moriarty stares me down. Clearly, he is in terror of my presence. I take stock of the situation, the distance between us, and prepare to attack.
Undo my leash, Cook, and let me at him! Wait, what is this? What are you saying, Cook? We cannot leave now! Not when victory is within my reach. Undo me at once, I say, so that I can go after that rapscallion. Dash you, leash!
Wait, Cook, I must attack!
You may have won for now, Moriarty, but just you wait.
I’ll get you next time!