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Dog Diaries

The Case of the Little Lady

by Ron Powell

~~The Case of the Little Lady

My name is Prince Frecklebum, Greyhound Detective. I wasn't always a detective. I was a racer once, before I retired. My track name was Occam's Razor of Lightspeed Doom. You can call me Prince. Most of the humans around these parts do.

Thankfully, I've just solved The Case of the Little Lady. It was rough and tough and it took a lot Greyhound Detective skill, but I managed. It all started a couple days ago... was the first no-sleep-in day of the week.



"The humans call it Monday."

"Which is the first no-sleep-in day of the week. Hush, you."

Anyway, it was the first no-sleep-in day of the week and the whole house was abuzz. I told Treachery to go nose-poke dad while I went to wake up the kids. Unfortunately, I happened upon TWO bowls of missing goods and, like any good Greyhound Detective, I had to stop and secure the scene, take care of the evidence...



"Did you eat my breakfast?"

"What, me? No! Very little of the food in that other..."


"...bowl was missing. Be careful when you eat from that bowl, though."

It was raining cats and... well, a really lot... when I was coincidently in the general vicinity of said bowl simply minding my own business. So, like I was saying, I woke up the kids, stepped on their feet and stretched to show them how much I loved them and set about trying to find out what was going on. They got out of their jammies BEFORE breakfast, didn't even share any bacon with me and then hustled out the door and into the big yellow wheely thing.


"Hush, you."

Now, I've been around the block. Several times. Pretty much every day when I can get Mom motivated. So I know that can only mean one thing! The kids are going to kiddie jail again.

"They're going to school, Prince. They go there to learn stuff."

"Yeah, well, I've been in jail and when the kids get home, the stuff they say and have to do clearly mean they've been in jail, too. Awful food, not allowed out to play, crammed in with lots of other kids in the same room. JAIL. Now, let me tell this story."

The house was really quiet all day. Treachery and I hung out with Mom, uncleaned the living room so she'd have something to do and cuddled on the couch. Well, I did. Treachery isn't allowed up there yet. we looked at the glowy box on the wall...


"Which is a glowy box on the wall, miss know-it-all. How was breakfast, by the way?"

"What? You?!!!?!! ARRRRGH."

Still, it was a pretty peaceful day, until the kids got out of jail...


...JAIL for the day.

They came home all noisy and happy. Who wouldn't be? Getting out of jail (I glared at Treachery to make sure she wouldn't interrupt me), coming home to not one, but TWO, Greyhounds and getting to cuddle with them, too? Sheer Heaven! It's tough, but we do our parts as best we can.

The same routine went on for a few days, confirming it was kiddie jail season again. Poor kids. At least they have us to come home to. That makes almost anything better, let me tell you.

First sleep-in day came around.


"And did you get to sleep in, or not?"

"Of course I got to sleep in."

"Then I'm right. You should pay more attention. I'm right an awful lot, let me tell you!"

I nose-poked Dad, stuck my nose in Mom's armpit and went to the kitchen to wait for the missing goods to show up. Treachery sauntered in behind me and we cuddled on the floor for a bit. Mom came in and made some smelly black water like she always does.

"coffee. She made coffee. Humans drink it all the time."

Anyway, she came in and, despite having to look at Miss Know-It-All, had a smile on her face. Dad followed, all stumbly and scratchy faced, a bit later. They chatted for a while.

"Honey," Mom started, "what do you think?"

"I've got no issues with it," said Dad, looking a bit like a shortsighted owl at the cuddling cousins.


"May as well. No sense in waiting." Dad lurched out of his seat and went to the fridge.

With that, Mom picked up the talky thing. Hold on while I glare at Treachery. Ok, she picked up the talky thing and punched a few buttons and waited.

"Lisa. We've decided. She's staying."

She talked a few more minutes and hung up the phone.

"Oh, wife of mine, we are now lovingly owned by two greyhounds. Whatever shall we do?"

"Well, one thing's for sure, if she's staying we're definitely going to have to change that name."

Mom called the kids in and told them Treachery was staying. The kids began throwing names around.





"Dumptruck?" (Treachery bristled just a little bit at this one)


"Fluffy Cloud?"

"Nigella Stinkbottom?" (I had to laugh a bit)

It was then that the youngest daughter held up a hand and said, "Lady Sparklefairy!"

Mom laughed and said, "You know, we *could* call her Lady, just like we call him Prince."

The three kids shouted "Lady!" in perfect unison and ran to hug her.

And that's how I solved the Case of the Little Lady.

"Whatever, Prince, Whatever!"

"That's not very Lady-like, now is it?"

Greyhounds aren't just dogs, they are a way of life!