In the sun-drenched village of Monte Lope Álvarez, two brilliant Spanish greyhounds run an unlikely greyhound detective agency. Issy levitates when she thinks. Poppy wears a monocle and speaks with devastating precision. Together with their eccentric team of budgies, hamsters, rabbits and philosophers, they solve mysteries the grown-ups miss, running their greyhound detective agency from the courtyard of Casa Adora.

But today, everything changes. A Belgian police dog named Tintin arrives, claiming he wants to join their team. He's clever, trained and suspiciously competent. The question is: can a by-the-book Belgian fit into their chaotic, biscuit-fuelled world of investigation?

Issy & Poppy: The New Recruit.

Chapter One: The New Recruit

Setting the Scene: A Warm Morning at Casa Adora

The courtyard tiles at Casa Adora held the morning warmth like a promise. Issy stretched out in her favourite sunny spot, one paw draped elegantly over the edge of the old stone fountain. Beside her, Poppy lay on her back, all four legs in the air, looking utterly ridiculous.

The Language Puzzle

"Pops, do you think English is a funny language?" Issy asked, watching a gecko dart across the wall. "Not haha funny. Just… funny."

Poppy rolled onto her side. "What like?"

"Floor and flaw."

"So?"

Issy sat up, warming to her subject. "Both sound exactly the same but have completely different spellings and meanings."

"Example?" Poppy yawned, showing all her teeth.

"We're laying on a tiled floor, but the design of the tiles has a flaw—see that chip near your tail? Or, a boxer—not the dog kind—might say he's floored his opponent, but his trainer's tactics are flawed."

"Hmm." Poppy considered this. "English is weird. In Andaluz, things make more sense."

"Not always. Remember when you thought 'embarazada' meant embarrassed?"

"I was a puppy!"

Big News Arrives

The iron gate creaked. Four ears pricked instantly, swivelling towards the sound. Dad appeared, still brushing crumbs from his shirt—telltale signs of breakfast at Bar Encarni.

"Hey girls, I have some news."

Issy and Poppy sat up properly, tails beginning cautious wags. News could mean anything from a new treat flavour to an actual investigation.

"José Loco just told me there's a new dog in the village."

"Galgo or Podenco?" Poppy asked immediately. Most dogs in their Andalusian village were one or the other—the lean hunting breeds that lounged in every doorway and trotted behind every farmer.

"No, a Belgian Malinois."

Issy's eyes widened. "A police dog? Here?"

Meet the Belgian Malinois

Dad settled onto the fountain edge. "José says he's young, just retired from training in Belgium. Too smart for his own good, apparently. Got bored with standard police work—kept solving cases before his handlers figured them out."

"What's he like?" Poppy asked, tail wagging faster now.

"Well, Malinois are intense. Lean, fast, frighteningly clever. They're bred for intelligence and work ethic. In Belgium, they make up most of the police K9 units—used for tracking, drug detection, search and rescue. They're basically four-legged surveillance drones with fur."

"And he's here? In our village?" Issy was already imagining the possibilities. Another detective dog. Someone who understood the work.

The Name Reveal

"That's not even the best part." Dad grinned. "He wants to join the Issy & Poppy team."

"What?"

"Wait, what's his name?" Poppy interrupted.

"Tintin."

The courtyard went silent except for the fountain's gentle burble.

"Tintin?" Issy and Poppy said together, voices rising in perfect harmony.

"The Adventures of Tintin?" Issy continued.

"And his loyal dog Snowy?" Poppy added.

"That Tintin?"

Dad laughed. "That's a lot of questions."

"But Dad," Issy said, scrambling to her feet, "don't you realise? Tintin and Snowy are our heroes. We've listened to every audiobook, watched every film. Tintin solves mysteries all over the world!"

"With Snowy," Poppy added firmly. "Snowy is very important."

"And now there's a real Tintin," Issy continued, pacing now, "who's a police dog, who's bored with regular police work, who wants to join our team?"

Sisterly Suspicions

"Suspicious," Poppy said.

"Very suspicious," Issy agreed.

"Or," Dad said, standing and brushing off his hands, "it's just a coincidence and a rather clever dog looking for more interesting work. José says he'll bring him by this afternoon. You can interrogate him yourselves."

As Dad headed inside, Issy turned to Poppy. "This could be either the best thing that's ever happened to us…"

"Or our first really complicated case," Poppy finished.

"Maybe both."

The gecko on the wall flicked its tail and disappeared into a crack. Even the geckos knew something interesting was about to happen in the tiny village of Andalucia.

Chapter Two: The Hierarchy Question

Assembling the Team

The afternoon sun had shifted to the western wall when José Loco arrived with Tintin. Issy and Poppy had spent the intervening hours summoning the team—a process involving strategic biscuit placement, whistled codes and one dramatically unfurled scroll that Jasper had insisted was "procedure."

The Greyhound Detective Agency

By three o'clock, the courtyard resembled a peculiar parliament.

Issy and Poppy sat at the fountain's edge, flanked by their advisory council:

• Joey the budgie perched on the rim, preening with studied nonchalance
• Chelsea the tabby occupied the highest step, tail wrapped primly around her paws
• Toffee had positioned himself near the biscuit tin—strategically sound
• Glen and Russ, the Scottish and Lancastrian sheepdogs, bookended the assembly like furry sentries
• Jasper wore his floral bathing cap at a jaunty angle and carried a notebook written in code
• Master Whisker-Wan sat atop an upturned terracotta pot, tiny lightsabre polished and gleaming
• Gary the albino gerbil vibrated with barely contained energy
• Pecky the pigeon strutted along the wall, muttering about "proper introductions"
• Goldie observed from her bowl near the fountain, bubbles rising in song or warning
• Stanley the tortoise had arrived three hours early and hadn't moved since
• Kizzy draped herself across the sunny alcove, one eye open
• Spiny Norman bristled importantly near the gate
• Stanley Whisker-Wan—rounder, scruffier, decidedly not a Jedi—sat beside his brother and ate a seed

First Impressions

The gate opened.

José Loco entered first, grinning beneath his magnificent moustache. Behind him came a lean, tan dog with alert ears and eyes that seemed to catalogue everything in a single sweep. His movements were economical, precise. Professional.

"Issy, Poppy," José said with a theatrical bow, "may I present Tintin, lately of the Belgian Federal Police, now resident of our humble village."

Tintin stepped forwards. "Thank you for agreeing to meet with me."

His English was perfect. Accented, but perfect. Issy felt Poppy stiffen beside her.

Establishing Authority

"We haven't agreed to anything yet," Poppy said, monocle catching the light. "You requested an audience. We granted one. There's a difference."

"Ooooh," Joey whistled softly. "She's using the monocle voice."

Tintin dipped his head. "Of course. My apologies. I'm grateful for your time."

Issy levitated slightly—her signature move when thinking. "José says you want to join our team. Why?"

"Because you solve real mysteries," Tintin said simply. "The police work was… predictable. Find the drugs. Track the suspect. Apprehend on command. I was trained to think, but rarely permitted to investigate. Your cases—" he glanced around the courtyard, at the assembled creatures, "—your cases require actual deduction."

The Interview Begins

"Flattery," Glen rumbled from the left. "Classic infiltration technique."

"Aye," Russ added from the right. "Smooth as butter on a hot morning."

"It's not flattery if it's accurate," Tintin replied calmly.

Chelsea meowed something brief and sharp. Toffee translated, his Spanish accent thick: "She says, 'What makes you think we need a Belgian?'"

"I don't assume you need anyone," Tintin said, meeting Chelsea's gaze directly. "But I'm trained in tracking, scent discrimination, evidence preservation and tactical assessment - I can pick locks, read body language across species and identify seventeen types of explosive by smell alone."

"Show-off," Pecky muttered.

Testing His Character

Jasper's paw shot up. "Question! Are you secretly evil?"

"No."

"Are you secretly secretly evil? Like, with layers?"

"No."

"Are you—"

"Jasper," Issy interrupted gently. "Perhaps we could focus on the relevant concerns."

Master Whisker-Wan spoke, his voice soft but carrying. "The stranger who arrives with skills arrives also with questions. What do you seek here, Belgian one?"

Tintin considered this. "Purpose. Challenge. A team that investigates because they care about truth, not because someone in a uniform tells them to."

Stanley Whisker-Wan ate another seed. "Sounds nice," he said through a mouthful.

The Elephant in the Courtyard

"Right," Issy said, landing back on the tiles. "Let's address the elephant in the courtyard."

"There's an elephant?" Gary squeaked, spinning in circles. "Where? I'll tunnel under it!"

"It's a metaphor, Gary," Poppy said patiently. "Issy means the hierarchy question."

"The hierarchy question!" Spiny Norman bristled even more. "The most importantest—"

"Importantest isn't a word," Joey sang.

"Important-er then!"

The Spanish-Belgian Standoff

Issy turned to Tintin. "We're Spanish. Well, mostly. English when it suits us. We're certainly not being bossed around by a Belgian, no matter how impressive your CV."

"Wouldn't dream of it," Tintin said. "You built this team. You know the village, the people, the territory. I'm offering my skills as a resource, not seeking command."

"Resource," Poppy repeated, tasting the word. "So you'd take direction from us?"

"Yes."

"Even if we're smaller than you?"

"I've taken orders from a sergeant who was half my size. Size isn't relevant to chain of command."

Glen leaned towards Russ. "He's good."

"Aye. Almost suspiciously good."

The Wisdom of Observation

Kizzy yawned from her alcove, stretched, and returned to sleep—her version of a vote of confidence.

Goldie released a stream of bubbles that rose in a complicated pattern. Issy, who'd learned to read the goldfish's aquatic commentary, nodded slowly. "Goldie says his aura is honest. No shadows."

"Bubbles aren't evidence," Poppy pointed out.

"They are in the Archive of Submerged Truths," Issy countered.

Stanley the tortoise, who had been silent and motionless for the entire meeting, finally lifted his head. Everyone turned. When Stanley spoke, it mattered.

Stanley's Verdict

"I've been watching since before you arrived," Stanley said to Tintin. "You checked the gate for squeaks—would have oiled it if you'd had oil. You stepped around Pecky's crumb pile, not through it. You made eye contact with every single creature here, even Gary."

"Especially Gary!" Gary chirped.

"And," Stanley continued, "when José introduced you, you thanked him in Dutch first, then French, then Spanish, then English. You honour languages. That matters."

The courtyard fell silent. Even the newest recruit could tell: this was how the greyhound detective agency made its decisions.

The Decision

Issy and Poppy exchanged a glance—one of those long, complicated sister communications that required no words.

Finally, Poppy adjusted her monocle. "Trial basis. One case. You follow our lead, contribute your expertise and we evaluate your fit with the team."

"Agreed," Tintin said immediately.

"And," Issy added, levitating slightly for emphasis, "if you ever—ever—try to pull rank or act superior because you're Belgian Federal Police and we're just village dogs—"

"You'll be out faster than you can say 'moules-frites,'" Poppy finished.

Tintin's tail wagged once. "Understood. Thank you."

Celebration and Chaos

Joey burst into a whistled fanfare that sounded vaguely like the Belgian national anthem, though possibly by accident.

Jasper raised his paw again. "So… does this mean he's on the team?"

"Trial basis," Issy and Poppy said together.

"Good enough for me!" Jasper pulled a carrot from somewhere—possibly inside his bathing cap—and began crunching victoriously.

José Loco, who had been watching the entire exchange with barely contained delight, clapped his hands once. "Excellent! I'll leave you all to it. Tintin, I believe you've landed with the finest greyhound detective agency in Andalucía."

Evaluating the Newcomer

As José departed, Glen turned to Russ. "Think he'll last?"

"Depends," Russ replied. "On whether he can handle the important things."

"Such as?"

"Jasper's theories. Gary's tunnels. Spiny Norman's vocabulary."

"And Master Whisker-Wan's proverbs," Glen added.

"And Goldie's songs," said Russ.

"And," Poppy said, turning to Tintin with one eyebrow magnificently raised, "whether he understands how a greyhound detective agency solves mysteries — with drama, biscuits and the occasional levitation"

Finding His Place

Tintin looked around the courtyard—at the budgie and the cats, the gerbils and the hamsters, the rabbit in the floral bathing cap and the goldfish singing through bubbles. At the sheepdogs and the hedgehog and the tortoise who'd arrived three hours early. At the sleeping white cat and the pigeon muttering about crumbs.

And at the two Spanish greyhounds who'd built something impossible and brilliant from biscuits and brilliance and sheer stubborn will.

"I think," Tintin said slowly, "this is exactly where I'm supposed to be."

"Good answer," Issy said.

"Excellent answer," Poppy corrected.

Joey whistled something that might have been approval or might have been the theme from Inspector Morse. With Joey, it was hard to tell.

Stanley the tortoise nodded once, then returned to his ancient stillness.

And in her bowl by the fountain, Goldie released one perfect bubble that rose towards the Spanish sky and popped in the sunlight like a blessing.

Chapter Three: The Village Tour

A Punctual Beginning

The following morning arrived with typical Andalusian brilliance—blue sky, warm stones and the distant clatter of Antonio Tuerca's garage already in full swing.

Tintin presented himself at the courtyard gate at precisely eight o'clock. Issy, who'd been awake since dawn, noted this with approval. Poppy, who preferred a more leisurely morning, noted it with suspicion.

"Punctual," Poppy observed through her monocle.

"Military training," Tintin said. "Hard to shake."

"We'll see about that," Issy said, stretching dramatically. "Today, you meet the village — every good greyhound detective agency needs to know its territory."

"Or the people," Poppy added.

"Or," Joey whistled from his perch, "the gossip infrastructure."

The Touring Party

They set off as the church bells chimed the hour—Issy and Poppy in the lead, Tintin alongside, and a rotating escort of team members who joined and departed as interest dictated. Jasper accompanied them for the first fifty metres before spotting something shiny and vanishing down an alley. Master Whisker-Wan rode in Poppy's collar, observing silently. Chelsea followed at a dignified distance, as though the whole expedition had been her idea.

Stop One: Antonio Tuerca's Garage

Antonio Tuerca—"Tuerca" meaning "nut" as in the thing that fastens a bolt—was elbow-deep in a Seat Ibiza's engine when they arrived. He was a compact man with perpetually oil-stained hands and the ability to diagnose any mechanical problem by sound alone.

"Issy! Poppy!" He emerged, wiping his hands on a rag that might once have been white. "And who's this?"

"Antonio, this is Tintin," Issy said. "He's… consulting with us."

"Trial basis," Poppy clarified.

Antonio crouched down, offering his hand for Tintin to sniff. Proper protocol. Tintin approved. "Belgian Malinois, eh? Police dog?"

"Formerly," Tintin said.

The Mechanical Mind

"Ah. Too clever for the force, were you?" Antonio grinned. "Join the club. I was too clever for school. Much happier with engines." He gestured to the garage. "Anything mechanical in this village, I either fixed it, maintain it, or know why it's broken. You need information about vehicles, tools, or who's been buying unusual parts—you come to me."

"Noted," Tintin said.

"Also," Antonio added, standing and returning to his engine, "I make excellent coffee. The kind that keeps you awake through stakeouts."

As they left, Poppy leaned towards Tintin. "Antonio Tuerca is crucial. He notices everything because he notices how machines behave. When machines misbehave, usually people are involved."

"Sound logic," Tintin agreed.

Stop Two: Antonio Chispa's Workshop

Their next stop required a short walk up the hill to a small workshop where rhythmic hammering echoed into the street. Antonio Chispa—"Chispa" meaning "spark"—was the village electrician and welder, currently creating what appeared to be a decorative gate from wrought iron.

He looked up as they approached, pushing his welding mask up. "The investigation squad! And a new recruit?"

"Trial basis," three voices said simultaneously.

The Spark of Information

Antonio Chispa laughed. He was taller than Antonio Tuerca, with wild hair that suggested frequent electrical involvement. "Another Antonio! We have three in the village, you know. Me, Tuerca down there, and Antonio Kung Fu up the hill."

"Kung Fu?" Tintin's ears pricked.

"You'll see," Issy said mysteriously.

Antonio Chispa set down his welding torch. "Anything electrical, anything involving power, light, or heat—I'm your contact. Also good for information about who's using more electricity than usual. Grow operations, you know. Not that we have those here." He winked. "Officially."

"Officially," Poppy repeated with her eyebrow raised.

"I also," Antonio Chispa continued, "hear everything that happens at the bar, because I installed all their lighting and I drink there four nights a week. Information flows with wine."

Master Whisker-Wan spoke from Poppy's collar: "The one who controls the light controls the shadows."

"Exactly!" Antonio Chispa pointed at the tiny hamster. "I like him."

Stop Three: Antonio Kung Fu's Dojo

Antonio Kung Fu lived further up the hill in a house with an immaculate garden and a small dojo attached to the side. They found him practising forms in his courtyard—precise, flowing movements that made Tintin's police training look clumsy by comparison.

He finished his sequence, bowed to an invisible opponent, then turned to his visitors. "Issy, Poppy. And a Belgian Malinois. Interesting."

The Philosophy of Movement

Antonio Kung Fu was the oldest of the three Antonios, lean and balanced, with grey hair tied back and eyes that missed nothing. He'd trained in martial arts in Madrid before retiring to the village, and now taught children twice a week.

"Tintin, trial basis," Issy said, saving time.

Antonio Kung Fu circled Tintin slowly. Not threatening, just… assessing. "Good stance. Alert but not tense. You've had combat training."

"Apprehension protocols," Tintin confirmed.

"But no artistry," Antonio Kung Fu observed. "All function, no philosophy. We'll work on that." He smiled. "I know the village through movement. Who limps. Who's nervous. Who's lying. The body speaks louder than words."

"The body is a scroll written in muscle and bone," Master Whisker-Wan intoned.

"Your hamster is wise," Antonio Kung Fu said approvingly.

Stop Four: Marta's Village Store

Next, they descended back to the village centre and the small store where Marta presided over tinned goods, fresh bread and the village's entire supply of gossip.

Marta's shop was dim and cool, packed floor to ceiling with everything from chorizo to cleaning supplies. Marta herself was a round woman with sharp eyes and a gift for extracting information while appearing to simply chat.

The Gossip Queen

"Issy! Poppy! And who's this handsome fellow?" She came around the counter, hands on hips. "Belgian, is it? My cousin married a Belgian. Terrible cook but very reliable."

"This is Tintin," Poppy said. "He's—"

"On trial, yes, I heard. José Loco was in this morning. Bought extra chorizo, very chatty." Marta folded her arms. "So you're joining the investigation team?"

"Hoping to," Tintin said carefully.

The Three Questions

"Hmm." Marta studied him. "Can you be discreet?"

"Yes."

"Can you listen without judgement?"

"Yes."

"Can you tell the difference between gossip, rumour and intelligence?"

Tintin considered this seriously. "Gossip is unverified and social. Rumour is unverified but persistent. Intelligence is verified and actionable."

Marta's face split into a grin. "Oh, I like this one. You can stay." She turned to Issy and Poppy. "He'll do. Now, would you like some cheese samples? The manchego just came in."

Stop Five: The Pharmacy

The pharmacy was their next stop—a pristine white-fronted shop run by Pilar and Christina, a mother-daughter team who knew every ailment, prescription and suspicious purchase in the village.

Pilar, the mother, wore her grey hair in a severe bun and had the demeanour of a woman who'd seen everything twice. Christina, younger and warmer, handled the customers while Pilar managed the inventory with military precision.

Medical Intelligence

"Issy, Poppy," Christina said warmly. "And this must be the Belgian everyone's talking about."

"Trial basis," came the chorus.

Pilar emerged from the back, reading glasses perched on her nose. She examined Tintin with the same intensity she'd use on a prescription. "Belgian Malinois. Police trained. Retired early. Either you failed or you were too good. Which was it?"

"Too good," Tintin said simply.

"Hmm." Pilar nodded. "Christina, make a note. We have another perfectionist in the village. They'll either clash with Poppy or become best friends."

Poppy's monocle glinted dangerously.

"Mother," Christina said with practised patience, then turned to Tintin. "We see everyone eventually. Cuts, colds, prescriptions, worried parents. People tell pharmacists things they don't tell doctors. If you need to know about health, habits or who's buying what—"

"—we're your source," Pilar finished. "But we're discreet. So you'll have to earn it."

"Understood," Tintin said.

Stop Six: Café Bar Bueno La Vida

Their final stop was Café Bar Bueno La Vida—literally "Good Life"—where Alicia ruled over coffee, wine and the village's social heartbeat.

The café occupied a corner of the plaza, with tables spilling onto the cobblestones and a bar inside that gleamed with bottles and promise. Alicia was behind the counter, pulling an espresso with the casual expertise of twenty years' practice.

The Heart of the Village

She looked up as they entered. "Ah! The famous investigators. And the Belgian I've been hearing about all morning."

"Word travels fast," Issy observed.

"Word travels at the speed of coffee," Alicia corrected. She finished the espresso, delivered it to a customer, then came around to greet them properly. She was a striking woman in her forties, with dark hair, dangling earrings and the kind of presence that suggested she could handle any situation from a broken glass to a broken heart.

Earning Trust

"Tintin, is it?" She offered her hand. Tintin touched his nose to it politely. "You picked an interesting team to join."

"Trial basis," Poppy said.

"Yes, yes, I heard. Everything's trial basis until it isn't." Alicia leaned against the bar. "This café is the centre of village life. Morning coffee, afternoon wine, evening gossip. I hear everything—arguments, celebrations, confessions, lies. I see who meets whom, who avoids whom, who's spending money they don't have."

"And you share this information?" Tintin asked.

"With Issy and Poppy? Always. They've solved three mysteries for people in this village. They've earned trust." She fixed Tintin with a level stare. "You haven't. Yet."

"Fair," Tintin acknowledged.

Alicia's expression softened. "But you'll get there. Anyone Stanley the tortoise approves of can't be all bad." She glanced at the clock. "Now, it's nearly eleven. Can I offer you all a drink? Water for the dogs, coffee for me?"

A Moment of Understanding

They settled at an outside table—Issy and Poppy with their water bowls, Chelsea accepting a saucer of milk, Master Whisker-Wan nibbling a crumb of magdalena cake on the table. Tintin lapped his water while watching the plaza, cataloguing exits, sight lines, patterns.

"You're doing it again," Poppy observed.

"Doing what?"

"Police assessment. Threat evaluation. Tactical thinking."

Tintin stopped. "Sorry. Hard habit to break."

From Police Dog to Guardian

"Don't break it," Issy said, surprising him. "Just… soften it. This isn't a threat zone. It's home."

Tintin looked around the plaza properly this time. Not as a police dog, but as a dog. He saw Antonio Tuerca waving from his garage doorway. Saw Marta arranging fruit outside her shop. Saw children kicking a football near the church, and old men playing dominoes under the trees. Saw Alicia laughing with a customer, and José Loco crossing the plaza with his distinctive walk.

"It's a good home," Tintin said quietly.

"It is," Poppy agreed. "And we protect it. Not with force or authority, but with attention. With curiosity. With the understanding that every mystery matters because every person matters."

"Even the annoying ones," Issy added.

"Especially the annoying ones," Poppy corrected.

Wisdom and Chaos

Master Whisker-Wan stood on his hind legs, tiny lightsabre reflecting the sun. "The warrior protects with strength. The guardian protects with wisdom. The investigator protects with truth."

Chelsea meowed something brief.

"She says," Poppy translated, "that you've done well today. You listened more than you spoke. That's the first lesson."

Tintin's tail wagged once. "What's the second lesson?"

"That comes tomorrow," Issy said mysteriously.

"After you've survived Jasper's theories," Poppy added.

The Village Accepts Him

From somewhere in the plaza, they heard a distant shout and what sounded like a small explosion. Several villagers glanced up, unconcerned.

"What was that?" Tintin asked, alert.

"That," Alicia called from inside the café, "was probably Spiny Norman testing his 'importanter' firework design."

"Should we investigate?"

Issy and Poppy exchanged glances.

"No," they said together.

"Some mysteries," Issy explained, "are better left unsolved."

"At least until after lunch," Poppy clarified.

Finding Family

And there, in the plaza of their Andalusian village, with the sun warm on their backs and the taste of good water still on their tongues, Tintin began to understand what it meant to be part of something bigger than training, bigger than duty, bigger than being the smartest dog in the room.

He was learning to be part of a family.

Even if it was only on a trial basis.

Conclusion: What's Next for Our Detectives?

Tintin has passed his first test—meeting the village and earning provisional acceptance from Issy, Poppy and their eccentric team. But can a Belgian police dog truly adapt to the chaotic, biscuit-fuelled world of village investigation?

The real test comes when their first case arrives. Will Tintin's by-the-book training clash with Issy's intuitive leaps and Poppy's procedural perfectionism? Can Jasper's bonkers theories, Master Whisker-Wan's cryptic wisdom and Goldie's bubble prophecies work alongside tactical police training?

Stay tuned for the next dispatch, where Issy & Poppy face their most challenging mystery yet—and Tintin discovers whether he truly belongs in Casa Adora.

About This Series

Issy & Poppy is a whimsical series of Spanish greyhound stories set in an Andalusian village, where two brilliant Spanish greyhounds lead an unlikely detective agency. With their eccentric team of multilingual animals, they solve mysteries that blend gentle humour, cultural diversity and clever deduction.

Perfect for readers aged 7-12 who love kids mystery books full of animal detectives, silly humour, and a bit of Spanish along the way.

• Animal detective stories
• Multicultural adventures
• Quirky characters and gentle humour
• Mysteries that celebrate curiosity and community

Character Guide

The Leaders

• Issy — Levitating Spanish greyhound, thinks in Spanish and English, dramatic
• Poppy — Monocled Spanish greyhound, bilingual, formal, devastating eyebrow raise

The Extended Team

• Joey — South London budgie, gossip specialist
• Chelsea — Spanish tabby, brief and sharp
• Toffee — Short-legged Spanish dog, biscuit expert
• Glen — Scottish sheepdog, dramatic commentary
• Russ — Lancastrian sheepdog, dry wit
• Jasper — Bonkers South London rabbit in floral bathing cap
• Master Whisker-Wan — Lancastrian Jedi hamster with tiny lightsabre
• Gary — Hyperactive Lancastrian albino gerbil
• Pecky — South London pigeon, street poet
• Goldie — Goldfish who sings through bubbles
• Stanley — Tortoise with impeccable timing
• Kizzy — Northern pure-white cat, expert rat-catcher
• Spiny Norman — Hedgehog with attitude and confused vocabulary
• Stanley Whisker-Wan — Master Whisker-Wan's twin, rounder, not Jedi
• Tintin — Belgian Malinois, former police dog (trial basis)

Village Words / Palabras del Pueblo

• Galgo — the Spanish word for greyhound, like Issy and Poppy! / Un galgo es como se llama a un perro como Issy y Poppy en español.
• Podenco — another Spanish dog breed that's great at hunting, often trotting around next to galgos in Andalusian villages. / Un podenco es otra raza de perro española, muy buena cazando, y a menudo se le ve junto a los galgos en los pueblos de Andalucía.
• Embarazada — a tricky word! It looks like it should mean "embarrassed," but it actually means someone is expecting a baby. Poppy learned that one the hard way when she was a puppy. / ¡Una palabra con truco! Parece que significa "embarrassed" en inglés, pero en realidad significa que alguien va a tener un bebé. Poppy aprendió esto por las malas cuando era cachorra.

This story is part of the Issy & Poppy: Kids Edition collection — bilingual adventures with Issy and Poppy in Andalucía. You can explore the whole collection in the Kids Edition Hub.
Esta historia forma parte de la colección Issy & Poppy: Kids Edition — aventuras bilingües con Issy y Poppy en Andalucía. Descubre toda la colección en el Kids Edition Hub.

Footnote: AI images, my stories — The Flexible Chef