A Very Yappy Poodle
by Sherlock Holmes
Iggy headed decisively over to the park bench where the little old lady sat, feeding the pigeons. Upon his arrival, the flock of pigeons looked at him, glared, and went back to their eating. The poodle was not as sympathetic. Immediately, he jumped up, yapping his well-manicured head off.
"HOW DARE YOU, IGGY! YOU'LL SCARE MISTRESS PUMPLEII OUT OF HER WIG! I'LL KILL YOU FOR THIS, YOU MITE-COVERED REPTILE!"
Iggy muttered to himself. "Loud, not very good at insults, yep, sounds like Thaddeus Amiel Ruford Sebastian III to me. And pretty easy with the 'I'll Kill You' threats. I wonder if he's my man." In a slightly louder voice, he quickly tried to calm the enraged poodle down. "Hey! Hey! Thaddie, man, calm down! Don't get your poodle parlor specialty doo all in tangles. I just want to ask you a few questions about Sammy the Squirrel."
"Yeah, yeah, I know the chap. He's even worse than you are."
"Thanks. Well, he's dead."
"Can't say that I feel sorry, but express my condolences to Soupy. I'm sure she's crushed too."
Iggy glared at him. "Where we you last night around midnight?"
"Out with Miss Fluffy Von Hoffman."
Iggy raised his eyebrows. "Who?"
"You don't know Miss Fluffy? How droll! She's the Poodle equivalent of Miss Universe. She's won so many pet shows that her owner bought her her own private jet. We went out to the Opera last night."
"I'd like to get in touch with this Fluffy. Where is she?"
Thaddeus got a dangerous glint in his eye. "At her private pool. Would you like me to escort you there? I'd be happy to give you a push in the right direction."
Iggy started. "Her p-pool? N-no thanks. I'm done with my questions. Thanks for the help."
Thaddeus gave Iggy a self-satisfied smile. "No problem."
Iggy: