Letter Of Condolence

My dearest Mrs. Abernathy,

It was with great horror I learned of the sudden and shocking disappearance of your beloved Min-Pin, Javier. My wife Carolyn (a stern but fair woman) collapsed immediately upon receiving word of your peril and woke some two hours later, finding herself on the floor of the local high school science lab having absolutely no recollection of how she got there.

You see, Mrs. Abernathy, (may I call you Mildred?) it seems her trusted boot-camp instructor befell the very same such absconding (I know your calling yourself Karen). The strangest thing then occurred, Mildred, the instructor was contacted via a hand penned text message informing her that its author had found the pet, also a Min-pin named Javier, and wondered if there were some kind of "compensation", shall we say. 

The letter had been slipped beneath her door under cloak of night, contained no return address, was slightly damp and smelled of almonds. She had no way to respond to the odd demand and fell into a bleak malaise for a time not exceeding seven business days. She would take no food, not even The Governess' suspicious gift of homemade Aplets & Cotlets.

This, my dear Mildred (did you really think you could leave the the events of scenic Acapulco behind without consequence?), is where the story takes a turn toward the macabre. This instructor, seven to ten leap-days later, received another hand-written text message, this time containing a non-digitized photograph of her spirited-away pet. And do you know where this picture was taken? Why scenic Acapulco. Isn't that curious, Mildred? (I will now cease with the snide and implication parentheticals) As I said, isn't that just so very co-incidental? For what possible reason could scenic Acapulco play two rolls in this letter unless they were, shall we say, connected? Why, you could easily come to the far-flung suspicion this hand penned text message and that of the instructor shared a common author. I will leave it to you to assemble theories. The point is, Mildred, in the photograph, Javier, the other Javier, was enjoying a nice bowl of grocery-store brand kibble!

Let me now cut to the chase. I am no expert on miniature breeds. Certainly I would have no intention of allowing anything "unpleasant" happen to either Javiers, but it is true that "unpleasantness" can be,oh let's say hard to pin down. Some discerning dog owners such as yourself might consider a poor diet animal abuse. Javier, it seems from the photo, appears to consider it quite a delicacy, certainly not "unpleasant". Did you know that a low quality can take years off the life of an animal? A person too.

Alas, that last paragraph did not, indeed, "cut to the chase". Here is what I have to offer. While I have no personal involvement in the shocking plague of kidnappings of Min-pins named Javier, I do have a very specific set of skills in this regard. I am a very persuasive letter writer. My name is Joanus Mithew McGyver and I have extracted rewards for lost pets for many times the offer on the poster. The Governess herself paid me in excess of fifty dollars for the promised return of her Min-pin. I played her like a fiddle, telling her a winding story of intrigue that implicated a group of rogue masseuses operating out of a remote Afghani day spa.I convinced her the villainous operatives therein had secretly obtained not only her toy dog, but scandalous pictures of herself "in the rhubarb" as they say. I had her waiting under the pale light of a sodium street lamp awaiting the arrival of an above-ground submarine, one which would never arrive. In the end, the real culprit was the gardener, a Russian born fellow they'd been calling Jose (it seems you are not the only one with secrets).

Now, my dearest Mrs. Abernathy, let us finally arrive at a coming together of minds, shall we? The envelope from which you glean these highly compelling words in the long-lost dialect of "cursive", Did it arrive under cloak of night, slipped beneath your chamber door? Was it possessive on no discernible return address? Was it slightly damp, as if it had been used to wipe up a very small spill of flavored coffee? Did it smell of almonds? Indeed, I believe it does carry such an odor. Did you know that the smell of almond is key to detecting cyanide? As well as almond lattes.

Let us both hope that it is the latte...

.

I have something that you want, Mildred and you have something I want. Ah, the classic Plour De Flouve. Tonight, when the moon lowers itself to the street near the sodium street lamp, place in its cheesy surface, the amount of twenty-five dollars in small, unmarked bills. 

I would not test my resolve in this matter. There are study after study regarding the ill effects of canned dog food, stating it is even worst than grocery-store brand kibble.

Now I must go, my pen ink runs low and the Staples closes in just a few dozen moments.

Truly,

J.M. McGyver