Otis Shemloh: A Short Story

The day it all changed was the day when I met Otis Shemloh, the Otter of deduction. I bumped into him at a city block, and after the collision, he quickly said “Follow me. We are heading to a scene”, and without question, I followed. I have no logical reason as to why I followed Otis. He was a stranger to me. Maybe it was his enigmatic persona? We walked to his car. Once we settled in his car, I immediately started asking “Where are we going, and why did you tell me to come?” He curtly responded “A scene, and because you are a dog, now silence.” As infuriating as he was, I kept silent because he enthralled me.
As we rode along, I watched the skyscrapers turn into trees, and the sidewalks turn into grass. We went from urban to rural in an hour. During the ride, I thought about my career as a writer, and how earlier that day I was talking aloud to my interactive voice typewriter. I could not come up with anything noteworthy, so I left my house out of frustration. I was headed to a park for inspiration when I ran into Otis.
Otis picked up what looked like a halved hoof, and then we went to the next house.
Upon arrival at the second house, I realized that Otis was investigating the story of the three little pigs that I heard about on the news two days earlier. There was a mutilated pig ear in a pile of wood, but there was hardly any blood. We left and reached the last