- Dog Tales
- October 6, 2023
Curley PawWord Story
“Hey fam, Curley here! Had an epic day in Spencerville: Ate BBQ, had a stare-off with the dreaded vacuum cleaner (Puddlez couldn’t stop laughing 🙄), prank-peppered bakery visit followed by an impromptu wrecking ball impression in Snooty Snout (knocked over a fancy scarf shelf with a loose racquetball.) Another day in the life of your favorite Keeshond! Woofs and wags, Curley 🐾”
Listen to the storyhere.
Honestly, my life ain’t all that bad, y’know? Anywho, greetings from Spencerville. I’m Curley, just your regular Joe of a Keeshond – if you call having a coat of dark, light, and black gray tints regular. I may not boast the weight of a Great Dane, but at a smashing 40 lbs, I’m no Cocker Spaniel either. But enough about me! Let’s dive into the juicy, pardon the pun, steak of the story.
Now, Spencerville is the kind of town where you can go to Chow Hound Café and have yourself a tasty barbecue chicken for lunch, which is my kinda town, by the way. But you know the odd thing? Puddlez, my twisted sister, prefers to fetch her meal from the Dog-gone Good BBQ. Can you believe it? Sisters, can’t live with them, can’t really leave them alone either.
So one cloudy afternoon, after a sprint session across Poodle Pond and a dip in the pool, we found ourselves trotting by the Western Fawn Pug Palace, on our way to the infamous Dog-gone Good BBQ. Now, what’s a couple of canines like us doing at a BBQ joint? Well, when you’ve had a long day and seen as much human-like existence as we have, you’d need a hot plate of steak too!
As we waited for our order, my eyes caught the sight of a familiar enemy outside – a rather gleaming vacuum cleaner. My panic was laughably obvious to Puddlez, who, bless her furry little heart, has no such fears. She proceeded to guide me past the walking nightmare with quite the sly smirk on her face.
Later, we made our way to the Woofy Bakery. I ordered the usual – a chicken pate pastry with some apple-based dessert. Regrettably, Puddlez being her devious self, slipped me a tomato – the absolute bane of my existence. Should’ve known better, I suppose, when she couldn’t contain her mischievous giggles.
After our meal, we decided to wind down at the Snooty Snout Boutique, stocking up for a game of tug-of-war. But a comedy of errors followed us as a forgotten racquetball in my jaw sprung loose, bouncing erratically into a shelf of ultra-posh collar scarves, knocking them over like a fuzzy grey wrecking ball. A gasp echoed through the boutique as everyone watched, wide-eyed, at the spectacle.
Well, if such a day doesn’t get your tail wagging in amusement, I don’t know what else would. Truth be told, in Spencerville, every day is a new comedy awaiting to be lived. And at the end of the day, I am not just an ordinary dog; I am Curley, the one and only, bringing joy, loyalty, companionship, and, of course, a bushy tail full of mishaps to the family that loves me so much.
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