“Hey, fam! Looks like a whirlwind of a day here. Saw a steak-n-banana fusion at the Pooch Playhouse… yuck! South Poodle Pond was buzzing with action and Ollie the tiny terror is about to be my stepbro. Cray, right? Anyway, I’m off to savor some donuts at Doggy’s and mull over my ‘2024 sibling surprise’. Remember, life’s about deciding whether to chew the pizza crusts or toss ’em back. Toodles until next dog tale! 🐾 – Sammy”

Listen to the story here

It was the sort of day in Pawsburg that dogs throughout the city were just brimming with anticipation for the adventure. From my corner perch at Pooched Potatoes, I sipped the best slurp of a beef broth latte and dawn hadn’t even cracked yet. Yep, it was going to be one of those days.

So there I was, Sampson, the leading Lab of Pawsburg, ambling down towards Golden Retriever River, when something peculiar caught my eye at The Pooch Playhouse. It was confounding, as though both steak and banana were collaborating to enact my worst gastronomic nightmare. I recoiled in horror like I spotted the mailman.

Next up, South Poodle Pond – a place you’d expect to be serene was today bustle of activity like a heated tug-of-war for a squeaky ball. “Seems like the peace is going to be a no-show today,” I thought, following it up with an impromptu sigh.

Meet Ollie, the pug with authority rivaled only by the persistent vacuum that haunted my dreams. Made my fur stand on end. Imagine the fear, a pug giving the Lab shivers, but hey, size isn’t everything. Today held a surprise of epic proportions. Ollie and I were informed that we were slated to become stepbrothers in 2024, which was a piece of information that was proffered as casually as “pass the kibble,” in Pawsburg.

Now, what do you make of that? Me, Sampson, tied by familial bonds to this tiny despot? Almost as distressing as rain clouds on a sunny day.

But hey, all that jazz couldn’t dampen my saliva-provoking love for a wholesome chunk of pizza crust. I made my triumphant stride to the Cat’s Meow Sushi – ironic honesty in advertising if you ask me – to sink into a bite of my favorite cheat snack. It would be a city scandal if word of this inappropriate indulgence got out.

Steering clear of the Bulldog Bay, I hung back at Doggy Donuts, savored the aroma of fresh donuts, and savored my calendrical misfortune – “Nap time in two hours, and stepbrothers with Ollie in two years.”

It made me think, “If life throws you a pizza crust one moment and a banana-bloated steak the next, should you catch it or fetch it back?” In the symphonies of my adventurous routine, I found my answer–you either chew it or you don’t, but you never, ever fetch it back.

The End.