Operation Squeaky Chicken

It all started when Muffin, a golden retriever with the IQ of a sponge and the heart of a saint, noticed something strange: his favorite squeaky chicken was missing. Not buried in the backyard, not under the couch, and not even inside the washing machine (he checked by jumping in while it was running—don’t ask).

Determined to solve the mystery, Muffin turned to the most suspicious creature in the house: Mr. Pickles, the family’s hamster.

Now, Mr. Pickles was no ordinary rodent. He had the twitch of a criminal mastermind and the eyes of a caffeine-addicted chess grandmaster. He also ran an underground crime ring out of his plastic hamster tube system—Muffin was convinced.

Recruiting Fluffy, the cat who despised everyone equally and believed knocking things off shelves was performance art, Muffin set out to interrogate the suspect.

“Meow,” Fluffy said, hopping onto the table and slowly pushing a glass toward the edge.

“That’s not helping,” Muffin barked. “We need answers!”

From his cage, Mr. Pickles smirked. Literally smirked. He then casually rolled over and revealed… the squeaky chicken. Hidden under a pile of sunflower seeds like some kind of plush ransom victim.

Fluffy gasped (silently, because cats don’t care), while Muffin barked in betrayal.

But just as Muffin lunged to reclaim his beloved toy, Mr. Pickles slammed a paw-sized lever inside his cage. The floor dropped. A trapdoor. The hamster vanished.

Chaos erupted. Muffin howled. Fluffy knocked three things over out of protest.

Later, as the humans cleaned up the mess and wondered why the hamster tunnel was now routed into the air vent system, Mr. Pickles peered from above, holding the chicken like a war trophy.

The Great Hamster Heist was a success. And Muffin? He was still trying to figure out how a rodent became his arch-nemesis.

Tomorrow, he’d try eating the couch. For revenge.