“Yo! Had THE best day at the park, squirrel chase, top dog games, and hey, got a new green froggy toy! (Don’t ask why, I just love ’em). Looking my best after a good groom and chowed down on some delish grub at the Fetching Deli. Saw my rivals, the bully-weiners, but who cares, right? Home now. Being the cozy furball I am for my human sibs. Pawsburg, ain’t no place like this. P.S Brought home some sunset glow. – Rogue Wally Bear”

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“Wally Bear, the most amiable rogue in Pawsburg, I find him rolling in the soft grass of Sherman Park, a patchwork quilt of sun and shade. His jowls shake in a dramatic display as he locks onto the scent of a squirrel; a futile chase – the English Bulldog was never a breed for the hunt, but his spirit was indefatigable, noble even, in its pursuit.

Running into his canine cohorts, we march into Black Bulldog Bay, a conduit of pure adventure. Wally, master of their wild hearts, leads them all into melodramatic scuffles and spirited games that end in panting doggo heaps. I laugh at their antics, for this never gets old, never loses its charm.

Dragging himself away from the joy of companionship, Wally trots over to Fetch! Toys and Treats, his brindle eyes focused on a vibrant green squeaky frog toy, eerily similar to his own now-battered buddy back home.

“He gets one a month,” the store owner tells me with a grin. “Can’t fathom the fascination,” he adds, handing the green toy to a wagging-tailed, wide-jowled Wally.

After a much needed grooming at The Pampered Pooch Salon, his white and brindle fur is gleaming, Wally drags me towards The Fetching Deli. The scent of beef stew, hearty and robust in its richness wafts through the air. The culinary abuse he subjects me to in chasing after meat, it might well be venison, or wild rabbits, or bull testicles frosted in sugar. I am smiling though, the joy compelling. My pocket now lighter, we walk out, his trot echoing satisfaction.

Later, hoofing towards Northern Choco Chihuahua Castle, Wally merrily meets his rivals, his fellow bachelors. The bully-weiners, they dubbed him, but he pays them no mind. He’s had his wrestlings and romantic endeavors, too has been the fated victim of slapstick comedy typical of his doggo lifestyle.

Love is paw-deep in Pawsburg even as we take our leave, the glow of the Boxer Beach sunset accentuates his form. Back home, he’d return to his human siblings. He’d become their fierce protector, their cuddly companion, the best TV show they ever did watch. Sublime, the love, heartache, the thrills and spills of Pawsburg and Wally Bear, the rogue of it all. You can’t script this madness, and really, would you want to?”

The End.