The Case of the Mixed-Up Mutts Read Online Free

do we find more clues?
    I know what Kayla would do if she was here. She’d talk to people. Mouse and I can’t do that. Most people don’t speak Dog.
    But dogs speak Dog. We can talk to other dogs and see if they know where Muffin could be.

    Mouse and I go back to the house with the two toy poodles. We stand on the sidewalk in front of their house.
    “Hello?” I call.
    Both dogs come running. “Who’s there? What do you want? Are you looking for trouble?” they bark at us.
    They have the same kind of window next to their front door as Kayla has. It is such a small window that they are pushing each other out of the way so they can both see outside.

    “No, no. We don’t want any trouble,” I say. “We just want to know about the dog that lives in the house with the tomatoes, onions, green beans, and squash growing in the backyard. Do you know which house I’m talking about? Do you know the dog that lives there?”
    “Sure. We know Jazzy,” says the bigger toy poodle.
    “We haven’t seen Jazzy in a long time,” says the smaller toy poodle. “There was another dog there the other day. A dog that isn’t Jazzy.”
    “We know,” I say. “That’s Muffin. She got mixed up with Jazzy at the dog park. We’re here to help Muffin get back home. But Muffin isn’t at Jazzy’s house. No one is there.”
    “That’s because the family went on vacation,” the bigger toy poodle says.
    “DID THEY TAKE MUFFIN WITH THEM?” Mouse asks.
    The toy poodles back away from the window.
    “Shh!” I tell Mouse. If his loud voice scares them away, we won’t get the information we need.
    “Did they take Muffin with them?” I ask in a softer voice.
    “No,” the smaller toy poodle says. “We saw Grandma come. I think she took Owen and the dog to her house.”
    Grandma! Kayla and her dad went to Grandma’s house, too. It’s probably not the same Grandma, though. It’s probably just another lady named Grandma.
    “DO YOU KNOW WHERE THIS GRANDMA LIVES?” Mouse asks. “DOES SHE LIVE AROUND HERE?”
    Before the toy poodles can answer, a light comes on inside their house. Then another light comes on above the porch.
    “What are you two barking about?” grumbles a voice inside the house.
    The front door opens, and a man who doesn’t have a lot of hair on his head looks out at us. “Ah,” he says. “ That’s what you’re barking about.”
    He steps onto the porch. Uh-oh. He’s carrying a baseball bat.

6
Does Anyone Smell a River?
    “RUN!” The toy poodles warn.
    Mouse and I don’t need to be told twice. We turn tail and RUN.
    “Grandma lives close to the river,” one of the toy poodles calls after us. “My human and I went there with Jazzy and her human once. If you can find the river, you’ll find Grandma. And, if you find Grandma, you should find Owen and that other dog, too.”
    “THANKS!” Mouse calls back as we round the corner to the next block.
    I glance over my shoulder. “It’s okay,” I tell Mouse. “The poodle’s human isn’t following us.”
    “GOOD!” Mouse says as we slow to a walk. “I DON’T KNOW WHY HE HAD TO COME AFTER US WITH A BASEBALL BAT. WE WERE JUST TALKING TO THOSE DOGS. WE WEREN’T DOING ANYTHING WRONG.”
    “Some humans don’t like it when dogs talk,” I say.
    “HE STILL DIDN’T HAVE TO GET A BASEBALL BAT,” Mouse says.
    “Well, if we don’t want another human to come after us with a baseball bat, we’d better be quiet,” I tell Mouse.
    “SORRY,” Mouse whispers. We look for cars, then cross the street. “SO DO YOU KNOW WHERE THE RIVER IS? I’VE NEVER BEEN THERE.”
    “Neither have I,” I say. “Maybe we can smell it.” A river should smell like fish. And boats. And I don’t know what else because I’ve never smelled one.
    I don’t smell fish ... or boats ... or anything that might be a river right now.
    “MAYBE WE SHOULD ASK FOR DIRECTIONS TO THE RIVER,” Mouse says.
    “Is there anyone around here who could give us directions?” I ask.
    We