Ruby twitched her whiskers. The street signs were wrong again. “Catnip Avenue” had somehow become “Doggo Lane”. Again. This was the third time this week, and Ruby, self-appointed neighbourhood detective and terror of the local squirrels, was not amused. From her perch atop the mailboxes, she surveyed the scene. Mrs. McGinty’s poodle was staring blankly … More The bamboozled boulevards

Ruby would like it noted, formally, for the record, and possibly for future litigation—that she is not paranoid. She is observant. There is a difference. At exactly 02:17 every morning, the lawn ornaments on Primrose Crescent moved. Not wind-moved. Not dog-kicked. Not children-with-sticks-on-a-dare moved. They repositioned. The gnome outside Number 14 turned his head.The ceramic … More The gnome who blinked

Ruby had always known this day would come.Not the day of reckoning, exactly, but the day when crime would finally slither out from under the sofa and knock over a fish tank ornament in broad daylight. She sat on the windowsill, tail wrapped neatly around her paws, eyes narrowed to detective slits. Outside, Mrs. Dalloway … More The vanishing sparkly thing

I am Ruby.I am a cat.I am also, due to a catastrophic shortage of competent humans, the neighbourhood’s only pet detective. This particular case began, as all great mysteries do, with outrage and damp paws. It was 07:13 on a Tuesday when I leapt gracefully (meaning: almost fell) onto Mrs Dalloway’s bird bath and discovered … More Birdbathgate

Ruby, a sleek ginger cat with the confident strut of someone who once won a fight with a vacuum cleaner (and told everyone about it), stretched luxuriously on her sun-warmed garden wall. She had just settled into the perfect nap, light breeze, distant sparrow gossip, zero humans shouting “RUBYYYYY, DON’T ROLL IN THAT” when she … More The glitter goblin

It was the 1st of January, 9:07 a.m., and Ruby the cat, renowned neighbourhood detective, chaos facilitator, and part-time sofa ornament, was already having A Day. She awoke to find her human, Claire, muttering over a notebook filled with the dreaded words:NEW YEAR RESOLUTIONSRuby narrowed her eyes. Humans + Resolutions = Bad News. Historically, such … More Ruby rumbles into resolution season!

Ruby was not just any cat.She was the cat.Ruby the Great. Ruby the Fluffy. Ruby the Sleek Shadow of Mild Chaos.And not that she liked to brag, except she absolutely did the neighbourhood’s premier pet detective. It had started innocently enough, as all catastrophes do: with humans being oblivious. Every house on Maple Lane woke … More The rebellious sidewalk chalk

Ruby, the neighbourhood’s self-appointed pet detective, awoke on the first of December the way most cats greet the dawn: by falling off the windowsill because she had been dreaming about chasing a flying roast turkey. She hit the carpet with an indignant “MrrRAOW!” which, loosely translated, meant, “I absolutely meant to do that, peasants.” Ruby … More A Christmas tail of mischief

Ruby, a cat with the investigative instincts of Sherlock Holmes and the patience of an overtired toddler, was having a morning. And not in the spiritual sense, with herbal tea and journaling.No. Ruby was crouched behind Mrs. Langley’s hydrangea bush, vibrating with moral outrage. Because the bird baths, all of them, had been mysteriously drained.Water … More The river of Vrrrroom

Ruby was not just any cat. She was THE cat, capital letters, underlined twice, possibly with glitter. The neighbourhood knew her as Ruby the Pet Detective, a title she bestowed upon herself shortly after solving the Great Mystery of Who Ate Mrs. Flanders’ Tuna Casserole (spoiler: it was Ruby). Today, however, a crisis loomed. The … More Ruby rrrrr-ports for duty…