Some days on Long Dog Farm are calm. The sun warms the vineyard, Dino hums his winemaker’s tunes, Sam inspects the rows like the queen she thinks she is, and Enzo pretends he isn’t asleep on the couch. Peaceful. Predictable.
And then there are days when the delivery from Ideal Dog Food arrives.
Let me be very clear: I, Noodle, Head of Security, take delivery days very seriously. Especially when it involves meaty goodness in bulk. Ten bags of “Ideal Meaty Goodness”, stacked neatly on the stoep—living their best, unopened lives. I checked them myself. Twice. I sniffed, I circled, I gave my approval. Everything was in order.
Or so I thought.
Did you know?
Some wine farms plant rose bushes at the ends of vine rows. These are not just for beauty, they show signs of disease earlier than vines, acting as natural early-warning indicators. At Long Dog Wines we plant white roses.
The Discovery
It was mid-afternoon when I returned for a casual inspection (and perhaps a little taste-test if the opportunity presented itself). The sun was still high, the breeze pleasant, the scent of dry earth and fermenting grapes drifting gently across the farm.
But something was wrong.
Two bags — two whole bags — were missing.
Gone.
Vanished.
Like ghosts in the vineyard.
I froze. My tail stiffened. My ears twitched. This was a breach of security so bold, so offensive, so utterly unsniffed-by-me, that it made my dew claws tingle.
Someone had taken advantage of a momentary lapse in vigilance. Someone had dared to challenge the fortress that is Noodle’s watch.
The Investigation Begins
I sprinted to Sam first because, if anyone was involved in mischief, it would be Dino, and Sam always knows where Dino is. But Sam was busy supervising something she called “trellising adjustments,” which looked suspiciously like bossing the humans around.
“Missing dog food? Not me, Noods,” Sam said, without looking up. “But Dino was rolling in something suspicious earlier.”
Of course he was.
I found Dino behind the cellar, snout muddy, eyes bright, definitely hiding something. But when accused, he laughed so hard his whole body wiggled.
“Noods, if I stole dog food, you think I’d hide it? No man! I’d be eating it.”
…Fair point.
Next I interrogated Ziggy. She loves drama, so I thought she might confess just for the attention.
“Oh darling, I wish I had stolen it,” she sighed. “Imagine the content! ‘Farm Scandal: Noodle Loses Control.’ Viral, babe. But no, wasn’t me.”
Enzo? Asleep. Naturally.
Nibby? Running around with a glove in her mouth. Useless.
Lassy? Half asleep by the fireplace. Sweet, but highly unlikely. (Her rebellious era is long past.)
I had hit a dead end.
Did you know?
By adjusting trellis wires each season, vineyard managers can improve airflow around the vines. Better airflow reduces the risk of fungal diseases like powdery mildew and botrytis.
Did you know?
Many boutique wine farms rely on seasonal workers during harvest because picking grapes by hand is still the gentlest way to protect the fruit. Machine harvesting can bruise grapes, which affects the quality of premium wines.
The Breakthrough
When in doubt, visit the humans.
They’re unpredictable, clumsy, poorly trained creatures — but sometimes, they know things.
I strutted into the office, tail high, and gave my best “Explain yourselves” look. One of the humans froze.
“Oh no,” she whispered. “Did no one tell him?”
Tell me what?
My eyebrow shot up.
She continued nervously, “We sent two of the bags to the Seasonal Worker Cottage. You know… where Lucy, Chonky, Zoey, and Fifi are staying this season.”
I blinked.
She blinked.
I blinked again.
So that’s where my Ideal meaty goodness went.
Case Closed… For Now
I marched straight to the cottage to confirm. Sure enough — four wagging tails, four guilty smiles, and two very open dog food bags greeted me at the door.
Lucy burped.
Chonky didn’t even bother to hide the crumbs.
Zoey and Fifi looked at me like I’d arrived to join the feast.
I huffed, tail flicking. Technically, the humans hadn’t breached security. But they had failed to file the correct paperwork with the Head of Security—me. And that is a reportable offence.
Still, when Lucy offered me a piece of kibble, I accepted. For morale purposes, obviously.
You’d think that’s the end.
But trust me…
When it comes to farm mysteries, dog food, and the Seasonal Worker gang…
That is another story entirely.
Noodle – No nonsense head of security
