“Alien lands in Pawsburg in search of dog toys! Saved the town’s fave Kongs with my diplomacy skills, swapped them with an old pair of postman’s shoes. Ended the day with beefy treats & feeling heroic. But geez, I tell ya, the things we dogs gotta do… Paw-five, Nelson”

Listen to the story here.

Once again, there I was: Nelson, the intrepid English Bulldog, awake when all of Pawsburg was caught in the dreams of the night. My piercing blue and brown eyes gazed toward the horizon, ready for another day of delightful mischief, and perhaps a mild touch of heroic bravery.

Out of nowhere, a blast erupted in the sky, illuminating Fawn Cream Maltese Meadow. A foreign object had ascended from the heavens. “Oh great,” I thought to myself. “As if a bath isn’t bad enough, now I have to deal with extra-terrestrial shenanigans.”

“Nelson! You see that too, right?” Zach, the courageous Golden Retriever and my faithful sidekick, joined me.

“Hard not to, buddy.” I quipped, my wits as sharp as ever panache at its height. Together, we ventured toward the commotion.

As we trotted down Retriever River, we encountered Christine, the town vet who I, personally, quite like. She had a worried look I usually only saw when she was about to administer vaccinations. “You two going to investigate?” she questioned, scanning us with a gaze that would’ve made the most burly of Rottweilers tremble in his boots. Trust me, I’ve seen it.

“Yep! After all, someone has to protect Pawsburg,” I replied with customary bravado, eons of English Bulldog ancestry surging within.

We arrived at Eastern White Westie Woods, where the alien spacecraft had nestled itself. The alien, a mite bigger than a Pomeranian but just about as fluffy, was sifting through the ground with an odd contraption. I swear, it made a whirling sound like my human’s vacuum cleaner, the horror of all horrors!

“Wait…” Zach mumbled, tilting his head in his adorably confused way, “Is it… is it looking for… dog toys?”

Lo and behold, the alien held up one of our city’s most treasured Kongs, left over from a K9 shindig at Doggy Depot last week.

“Seems like we’ve got ourselves an intergalactic toy thief,” I quipped.

The predicament called for sacrifice, my favorite pair of the postman’s abandoned shoes. I approached the ET playfully, shoes in tow, and exchanged them for the stolen Kongs. Call it Dog Diplomacy.

We escorted our new fuzzy friend back to his spaceship, and with a final friendly woof, he was off to his cosmic home, leaving us tired but proud.

The day ended with a hearty feast at Pooched Potatoes where Zach and I, the celebrated defenders of Pawsburg, dined on my favorite beef topped dry food. For once, I was glad I’d been awake to witness the night’s shenanigans. Even if it did make me feel a bit like a feline out on an unforgettable prowl.

But that, my friend, is just another day in the life of Nelson, Pawsburg’s one-eyed champion. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I think I’ve earned a ride in the car with my head hanging out of the window. Seems only fitting to treat a hero, wouldn’t you say?

The End.