Puppy P.I. The Case of the Scandalous Vandal

By Daniel Fox

There’s a vandal loose in the village of Punky-yarn destroying public property, wrecking the re-election, and even threatening the lives of the locals. Worst of all an innocent eleven year-old boy is being blamed and there is only one Private Investigator who can save him...

Suzy the six-month old Beagle puppy. She’s young, she’s forgetful, she has no idea about what she’s doing. And she’s absolutely determined that nobody will send her human boy Away.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Daniel Fox
• Release date: Sep 27, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370115440

Daniel Fox

Daniel Fox is an artist, solo wilderness explorer, writer, Lexus Ambassador, Fujifilm X-Photographer, Sandisk Extreme Team member & Manfrotto photographer. His work has appeared in Outside, The Daily Telegraph, Canoe and Kayak, Montecristo, and many other magazines. Through his photography and public speaking, he seeks to inspire people to experience nature as a framework, mindset and mentor for personal transformation. Fox uses his work to support WILD.ECO, a non-profit youth organization that he founded in 2015 which seeks to mentor disadvantaged students and fund tuition costs for a month-long wilderness immersion camp. WILD.ECO’s mission is to foster resilient, empowered, adaptable, curious and empathetic students for life. Fox resides in Vancouver, British Columbia, with his wife Tristan and their dog, Kobe.

Book preview

The road didn’t seem to know where it was going.

It meandered out of the city, twisting its way left through suburbs full of endless rows of matching houses. It wandered to the right, curving through the mud browns and blacks of farmlands. It seemed like it would be awfully easy for a family to get lost along the way. Luckily, car-pilot Suzy was on the case.

Suzy, whose full name was Suzanna Victoria Princess Extraordinaire Sterling, was pretty sure she was just about the best car pilot ever.

She certainly had the outfit for the job. She was wearing leather brown booties and a matching brown leather vest. She had on goggles fit special for her which did a dandy job of keeping the buggies from going squish in her eyeballs, and a brown leather cap was fitted tight around her head with two special holes cut out so her long ears could flap back in the breeze. To top it all off she had a jaunty red scarf. Or at least she was pretty sure it was red. She couldn’t actually see the colour red, and wasn’t entirely sure that red wasn’t some sort of practical joke being played on her. Still, there was no denying that the scarf was full of jauntiness, and that she was doing a fabulous job of making sure the family car didn’t get lost on its way to their new home.

She wasn’t just piloting either. As the (possibly) red little car grumbled its way from city to country she leaned out of the window and called out to all the new friends she made along the way.

Hey you horses! she cried, you’re super great at running! Almost as good as me!

Hi hound dog! she called back at the old grey fellow with the jowly cheeks who howled out a hello from the porch of his farm house. I’m helping my family move!

Hey cows! You’re… sure standing there and chewing stuff real good! she barked out at a couple of Jerseys standing on the other side of a split-rail fence because they didn’t seem to be doing much of anything else.

The breeze was fantastic. It brought pretty much one billion new scents a second rushing up Suzy’s nose. The car was wonderful, mumbling and grumbling, pulling along a trailer full of clothes and stuff behind them. The moving van that followed was great, with a moving man at the window who was always smiling whenever Suzy looked back his way.

Everything, in fact, was absolutely positively one hundred percent fabulous… everything, that was, except for the insides of the little (probably) red car.

Suzy ducked her head back inside, planting her bootied feet down on the legs of her eleven year-old human boy, Eddie. His head was hung down. He wasn’t looking at any of the wonderful stuff outside at all.

Suzy looked over. Her human mother, Christina, was behind the wheel. Suzy was pretty sure Christina was the most beautiful woman in the world with her long and curly (most likely) orange-red hair and the freckles across her nose.

These were Suzy’s people. They were great people. Probably the best people in the world. But there was something wrong between them. A sadness and anger that Suzy could actually smell. It hung in the air between them and reminded Suzy of the scent of cold wet rocks by a river.

They weren’t laughing together like they used to. They weren’t listening to cool old rock tunes on the grumpy old car’s radio, which they almost always did during road trips. They weren’t playing I Spy. They weren’t anything, except maybe broken.

Suzy was going to get them past this sadness bump. She was going to fix them. She was fairly certain that she was awesome at fixing just about everything.

The scent coming through the open window changed. Gone was the hot itchy yellow smell of hay and budding corn fields. Now there was the cool blue and green secret smell of trees. Lots and lots of trees.

All thoughts of fixing her family instantly tumbled out from between Suzy’s ears.

[Six-month old puppies have some trouble holding onto thoughts for longer than a minute or two, even if they are Beagle puppies which, if one were to ask Suzy, are probably the best kind of puppy one could possibly be.]

She thrust her head back out the passenger window. She almost accidentally thrust her whole tiny wiggling body out after it, but Eddie grabbed a hold of her back legs and held on.

The cantankerous (fairly certainly) red car was now mumbling its way through forest. Suzy’s eyes opened wide. She had never seen so many trees. It was like being on another planet. They crowded right up to the edges of the road, making secret dark spaces between their trunks. They towered up overhead, their branches reaching across like they were trying to grab hands over top of the moving truck. Suzy wondered if anything lived out there in that darkness.

It was then that they came to the sign that was the start of all their troubles.

The sign sat at the corner where another, smaller road branched off from their highway. It was a great big sign, made all of wood, carved from the trunk of a once gigantic tree. Welcome to Punky-yarn! was painted on the lower right-hand corner. The rest of the sign was taken up by the gigantic smiling head of a bald man sporting a pointy mustache.

Here was the weird thing – someone had taken some mud and drawn all over the man’s face. They had drawn devilish horns on his head, had given him a black eye, and had blacked out some of his sparkling white teeth.

Hey! said Suzy, ducking back into the car. Did you guys see that?

But of course her people hadn’t seen a thing. They were too busy working on being sad.

And then thoughts of the sign fell out of her head just as fast as thoughts of fixing her family had fled, because they had now entered the village of Punky-yarn, the family’s new home.

The main road ran straight down from the highway and then split out around maybe the best thing that Suzy had ever seen – The Park. Suzy would learn later that you had to pronounce it like it had capital letters – it was always The Park, not the park.

As far as a six-month old puppy (a Beagle puppy, thank you very much) was concerned, it was the most amazing thing anyone had ever seen in all of time. At least three city blocks long, The Park was a stretch of grass in the very heart of Punky-yarn.

At this end there was a playground and a wading pool full of children. Suzy loved children. They were the best.

The middle of The Park had neatly trimmed bushes and concrete paths and benches where nice elderly folks were sitting and enjoying the warm summer sunshine. Suzy thought elderly folks were fantastic. They were always so honest, telling her that she was very pretty, which was something she agreed with one hundred percent of the time. She also liked summer sunshine a lot. It was the best too.

But the real wonder of The Park sat at the far end. Suzy’s jaw dropped as their car shuddered its way around the far end, passing a big brown wooden building called The Village Hall. Not that Suzy paid any attention to the Hall. She only had eyes for the tree.

It was an immense oak. Suzy didn’t know a lot about trees, but a tree this size had to be just about a billion years old. Its huge canopy of branches were full of clambering children. Years ago, the parents of these children had played in those branches, and before them, their grandparents, maybe going all the way back in time to the very first minute that Punky-yarn had been born. Or made. Or however villages came to be.

But the specialist special thing about the huge tree (which Suzy would later learn was known as The Old Man) was that its branches were intertwined with the gazebo that sat next to it.

The gazebo itself was immense, and could probably easily sit forty or fifty people. It too was made all out of wood, with crisscrossing slats circling its bottom like a skirt. The top though, the top of the gazebo was amazing, and Suzy couldn’t even begin to pick out where the roof of the gazebo began and where the branches of the Old Man ended.

They made another turn, this time a left, coming back around the far end of The Park. A nice old lady was waiting to cross the road and Suzy called out, Hi! I’m Suzy! We’re going to be best frieeeeeeends! except of course what the nice old lady heard was, Bark! Bark woof bark! Woof woof woof baaaaaarrrrk! as the car pulled away because humans had forgotten how to understand anything but themselves a long time ago.

Christina pulled into a parking space and turned off the car. The engine died out with a rumble that sounded suspiciously like someone saying Thank goodness that’s over. Suzy narrowed her eyes and peered into the dashboard vents. She’d never been fully convinced that there wasn’t a grumpy old man living under the car’s hood.

So, said Christina, turning off the car, we’re here.

Here didn’t seem to interest Eddie very much. He continued to look down at his hands.

What do you think? said Christina.

I think it’s awesome! said Suzy.

Eddie sighed. Eddie scowled. But he did finally look up. He peered through the window at the doors of the shops in front of them. There aren’t any stores, he said finally.

What do you mean? said Christina. There are all sorts of stores here and on the other side of The Park. This is the village’s main street, they’ve got some great stuff to buy.

Yeah, said Eddie, "but there aren’t any real stores."

Oh, said Christina, you mean big chain stores. Punky-yarn has a by-law against them. Every single shop is owned and operated by people from the village. I knew a lot of these people when I was growing up here. That’s cool, right? They’ll get to know what you like and then-

Look at that one, Eddie said, jabbing a finger out to the right. It’s called ‘The Dark Knit.’

Yep, said Christina. They sell home-made woolen clothes there. They have all sorts of stuff like scarves and sweaters and mittens. I mean, sure, they only come in black but-

And that one! said Eddie, jabbing a finger to the left. It’s called ‘Photo Fin-ish’!

They only sell pictures of fish.

Eddie threw up his hands. Why would anyone only sell pictures of- And look at this one here! He thrust out a finger straight ahead.

Suzy ducked her head down to look. Straight ahead of them was a place on a corner, its windows all covered up with newspapers. Suzy thought that was pretty nice, putting newspapers up so people could read stuff for free.

I bet it’s a diner, said Eddie, crossing his arms. One of those dumb places that tries really hard to look like it was opened in the nineteen-fifties and has pictures of old dead movie stars that nobody cares about on the walls. And all of the menus have dumb names for their food like ‘Sid Caesar Salad’ or ‘Laurel and Hardy Vegetable Soup.’ And it probably has a dumb name like all these other places. Let me guess. ‘Shape Up and Fry Right’ or ‘Bake Your Best Shot or…"

Eddie leaned forward and looked up. His mouth snapped shut.

Suzy leaned forward and looked up too. There was a sign already in place, with the word Christina’s written across it in big (one could imagine) red letters.

The chill rock smell between Suzy’s two people became damper and darker. They both looked straight ahead.

Christina’s hands rubbed the top of the steering wheel. Yep, she said finally, it’s mine. I always wanted to have a diner, ever since I was a little girl. I thought it would be a fun way for people to get together and… Her voice trailed off. Anyway. ‘Shape Up and Fry Right.’ That’s good. I wish I’d thought of that.

She got out of the car, the door squealing as she shut it behind her.

Suzy wasn’t exactly sure what had just happened between her two people, but she knew it felt even more sad. But then she remembered what diners were for and she wagged her tail and said, Yay, food!

CHAPTER 2

Everything was going very well again. Suzy’s people weren’t fighting, and if there wasn’t any arguing, then there obviously wasn’t anything wrong. Christina had changed Suzy into her worker outfit – blue overalls with little yellow boots, and Suzy was absolutely certain that she was being a tremendous help.

The nice mover man brought in another box, this one labelled Dishes, and saw Suzy scampering around in her get-up. Well aren’t you the cutest thing? he said.

Yes, I am, said Suzy, and then she went over to make sure Christina was doing everything right. Christina wasn’t in fact doing much of anything at all except reading from the book she always had her nose in. The title on the cover said How to Make People Your Friends Whether They Like It or Not and Christina had been reading from it a lot since she decided that they were going to move out of the city. Practically every page had its top corner turned down and nearly every line had been highlighted in yellow.

Today Christina was reading from a chapter about making introductions. Suzy was an expert on meeting new people, but she understood that not everybody could be as awesome as she was at everything.

Christina nodded, closed the book, and then stepped out from behind the counter. She put on a smile. Would you like some lemonade? she asked the mover man.

Well my goodness, said the mover, I don’t think I’ve had a lemonade in just about one hundred and five years. Yes Missus-

Miss, said Christina.

Miss Sterling, I’d love a lemonade.

Christina’s smile grew wider and she slipped through the door into the kitchen.

The mover man sat down on one of the stools by the long counter, pulling out a polka-dotted handkerchief to wipe the sweat from his face.

Eddie was at the other end of the counter, pulling coffee mugs out of a big cardboard box. You’re from around here, right? he said to the mover man.

I surely am, replied the mover. Born and raised right here in good old Punky-yarn.

And did you have dreams when you were my age? said Eddie.

Absolutely! boomed the mover. Me, I was going to be a hockey star. He mimed handling a hockey stick, dodging past imaginary defenders to slap an invisible puck into a daydream net. Pow! Zap! Zoom! GOAL! I was going to be the next Rocket Richard, the ultimate assassin on ice.

Right, said Eddie, putting down another coffee mug. But now you carry boxes around all day instead. Did this village do that to you?

There was a gasp from the kitchen. Christina stood in the doorway, a beading glass of lemonade in her hands, a look of shock on her face. Eddie, she said, go walk the dog.

But mom, said Eddie, we were just talking about how this place crushes all of your hopes and dreams. Plus, you know, I’ve got a lot of coffee mugs to-

Walk. The. Dog, said Christina.

And that’s how Eddie and Suzy ended up in The Park.

***

Suzy was in the habit of expecting pretty much everything to be awesome. The Park certainly lived up to those expectations. The grass was fantastic, even if it tickled her nose a bit. The children playing on the jungle gym looked like they were having the best time ever. The other dogs that passed by all woofed out hellos to the newcomer.

The only one not having any fun was Eddie who sat all glum and frown-y on one of the benches. This was pretty confusing to Suzy because they were playing fetch-the-stick, and fetch-the-stick was clearly the best thing anybody had ever done in the history of all time.

Eddie threw the stick. Suzy scampered after it, her boots slipping in the grass. As Suzy careened right and left carrying the stick back (it was almost as big as she was) Eddie sighed and looked out across the street where a grocer was having a chat with a nice-looking lady.

Say, said Eddie, putting on a fake voice to make himself sound like the grocer, did anything exciting happen in the village today?

Well, said Eddie again, now pretending to be the lady, I almost had butter on my toast. But then I didn’t.

Whew, he said for the grocer again, that was close!

Suzy dumped the stick in Eddie’s lap. Eddie threw the stick. Suzy ran after it.

Eddie looked to the street where a young man was escorting an elderly lady – the very same lady Suzy had called out hello to – across the road.

May I help you across the road madam? said Eddie, pretending to be the young man.

Only if you promise that it’s just as boring on the other side, he replied as the elderly lady.

Suzy dumped the stick in Eddie’s lap. Eddie threw the stick. Suzy tumbled after it.

Eddie wrinkled his nose at a teenage boy and girl walking hand-in-hand along one of The Park’s pathways.

Boy, said Eddie as the teenage boy, we sure brought our young love to the right place to watch it wither away and die.

Tee-hee, said Eddie, pretending to be the teenage girl.

Suzy dumped the stick at Eddie’s feet. This was not going well. Eddie should have been delighted. She was clearly winning at fetch-the-stick, the stick hadn’t managed to get away once. The score was Suzy: 3, Stick: 0.

Will you please cheer up? said