Billy Bob PawWord Story

My name is Billy Bob. I am a male Cairn/Yorkshire Terrier. My visual description is Small black terrier, looks most like a Cairn terrier with the face of a Yorkie. Medium length haired, large white haired patch on most of his chest.

“Hey Pops, Pawsburg’s a porch full of drama! Corgi Castle looming over Retriever River. Got no time for doggie gossip or kitten quarrels. Just prefer quiet corners and beef burgs, not Kibbles, at The Fetching Deli. Turns out, throne games ain’t just for humans, found myself right in the doggie drama. Phew! – Bubster”

Listen to the story here

In the swirling chaos of Pawsburg, living ain’t no trip down memory lane. Here I was, Billy Bob, your humble country terrier, a crownless canine king draped in a black coat outlining a prism of white shifts on my chest. Each twist, each stitch in my tale dipped into the sea of my shyness, my discerning intellect and my loyalty to the alpha. I fancied the quiet corners, draped in silence at home. Oh, and those squeaky chewies? Tossed them aside quicker than my own shadow. You folks got it all wrong, it ain’t the peculiarity of having zero dogger friends in this muttville or my unwelcoming rapport with the howling meowsters, it’s just how I am.

Pawsburg sat like an unexpected plot twist, a realm running rich with canine mischief and midnight runaways. The Yellow Tan Dalmatian Desert spread out its arid secrets, while the Southern Golden Retriever River trickled mirth and moist licks down its course. Up above, the Corgi Castle stood tall, casting shadows of intrigue that danced on the walls of Pup-Cakes, Pup-Tastic Pizza and The Fetching Deli. The shops echoed with silent barks of stories, stories that never left the lanes of The Pampered Pooch Salon, The Howling Husky Hardware Store or Canine Couture Clothing.

My appetite cried out for the divine indulgence of Naturo wet meat and beefburgers, served hot at The Fetching Deli. Oh, and once in a blue moon, I’d find thrill in the absurdity of maple syrup-slathered pork steak, a culinary chaos dear to my heart. But dare to feed me dried Kibbles and I’d snub it right back at you, unapologetically.

Our canine kingdom, though draped in quaint charm, was dotting with a power struggle unbeknownst to the truth-purring Tomcats back home. We were all falling into a haberdashery of thrones, a tale entombing heroes and villains in equal measure, caught in a whirlwind of deception and loyalty that sought to divide the spoils of Pawsburg.

Embroidered into this tapestry of trials, I, Billy Bob along with my quiet demeanor, found myself in the thick of this tussle, my terrier spirit unwittingly entangled into the hounds of royal power.

The End.