The Case Of Who's A Good Boy

A Canine Noir

“Who’s a good boy?” she asks.

The question sticks in my head like peanut butter in a chew toy.

I almost don’t take the case, since I never work weekends. In fact, I never work, ever—I’m a dog. But I have to know: who is this good boy, and what does he want?

I need some air, so I grab my leash and take myself on a walk. It’s a clear night and I can see the …