“Late-night stroll turned to A-Team mission! Bruno, the big lug, ends up in the pound-Dognapped! Can’t leave him cooped up, so I gather the gang: Daisy the Diva, Hound the Hippie and me, Pepper the Planner. Operation was a ripping success! Bruno’s free, and we party at Ruff-n-Ready. Broccoli Bane? Nope, not today. Rebellion never tasted so chicken-y! Goodnight from Pawsburg’s unscripted hero: Pepper 🐾- signed Tails 🐶”

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As dawn flipped its switch, a yawning Boston opened its eyes. Here’s me, Pepper, a tail-wagging optimist more awake than most snoozing city dwellers. When Mrs. Beckett’s probably dreaming of Beethoven, I do what any adventurous Cavalier King Charles Spaniel would do – slip away to Pawsburg. There’s business to be done.

I remember bolting towards Western Husky Hill, under the thinning mist. I spotted Chippy scampering about, “News?” I barked. Chippy scurried closer, whispering “Bruno’s been hauled to the pound.”

My feathers got ruffled, my tail betrayed me with a nervous twitch. Bruno may be my nemesis, but being cooped up in the shelter? Nah, that wasn’t his destiny. So, I hatched a plan. Our rivalry was about to take a backseat for the common good.

The daring operation needed sharpened wit, pawsome strength, and an extraordinary appetite. I knew just the team. Off to Yappy Yogurt, then. Inside, sipping canine shakes, were Daisy the Dalmatian and Hound the Hippie, the goofiest yet bravest mutt in town. They were in. The Pampered Pooch Salon and Spa for Paws were next. Stocking up on essentials like the whizzbang distraction toys and the smell-good sneak past sprays was crucial.

As dusk fell, Pawsburg swaddled in an uneasy calm. The pound loomed ahead. Under hushed whispers and shaky tales, we embarked on the mission. Daisy played the distraction; she fetched toys to the menacing guards while Hound sneaked past, unbolting Bruno’s cage. I, Pepper, the genius planner, guided them through, pulling strings from behind.

Then was the moment of truth. The steel grate screamed open. Bruno, the big lug, is free, and the tail wagging reunion disrupted the calm night. A victory howl painted the Pawsburg sky red. Even in that glorious moment of accomplishment, Bruno grumbled, “Worn-out Duckie, I missed you.”

We scavenged some grilled chicken from Ruff-n-Ready while ducking around Red Beagle Beach. We celebrated through the night, drowning in delicious broth and camaraderie. No ‘Broccoli Bane’ in sight.

Returning to my familiar nook in Mrs. Beckett’s apartment, I kept my escapade a secret. Boston stirred into life, oblivious to the adventures Pawsburg sheltered. Our secret haven, our not-so-well-kept secret. As night fell, a familiar yearning pulled me back, back to the topsy-turvy Pawsburg. Life was a sitcom, and we were the unscripted heroes. I tell ya, there’s no business like Pawsburg’s business.

The End.