Hey pops, just a quick heads-up from your strapping Teddy Bear. Played the game, roped the win and scored some sushi (not for me, but for Margaux) between the barks and growls. All in a Pawsburg day’s work! Groomed to perfection and ready for tomorrow’s doggy decathlon. Cheer for me, will ya? – Your Hercules

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There I was, trotting along the rolling meadows of Greyhound Grove after squeezing through the mild drizzle. Venturing out into the open wasn’t exactly my personal preference but I had to get to the Dapper Dog Salon before dusk. Hercules, a core part of me, was beginning to stir. Being the inwardly sophisticated, outwardly rugged bulldog that I am, I dared not let the impending game pass without being in my prime groomed state. You see, Pawsburg isn’t just all popsicles and tail-wagging, it’s a dog-eat-dog world out there, particularly when the annual “Paws O’ Steel” tournament rears its competitive head.

The thrill of the game rippled through my being as I set my sights on Fetch! Toys and Treats. I made a pit-stop, picking up a fresh set of key-shaped chew toys. One can never be over-prepared for the uncertain terrains of the sports world. And yet, somehow my adversaries always seemed poignantly aghast each time I thwacked that chew toy right into the goal post. The key, quite literally, was in the throw.

I stopped by The Cat’s Meow Sushi, not particularly for myself but for Margaux. Her rather exotic culinary leanings perplexed my meat-loving taste buds, but the soothing purr of her grey fur against my bulldog stubby tail had its charm. As for my meal, the Doggy Delight was the next on the list. A top-tier athlete’s need for meatier delights, such as a nicely grilled tilapia, never waned. There is no room for veggies in my meticulously carved gastro-landscape. This is the very fuel that stoked the fire of my innate sporting prowess, or so I liked to imagine.

Prospering in the world of competitive sports isn’t all about physical brawn, it’s the inner games one played. The mind, like a muscle, had to be groomed for endurance. The Dapper Dog Salon was my final stop. Their pampering did more than just brush my red and white fur to shine it gave me the boost of morale I so needed.

Was it strange that even in my relaxed state, a part of me was always tucked away in the corners of Pawsburg’s pool, floating, carefree as my mates – Boss, Coco, Tank frolicked unrestrictedly? Though reality oscillated between a competitive fervor and a calm temperament, at the end of the day I longed for nothing more than a tranquil splash. One might even say that the pool was to me, what a spaceship was to Zaphod Beeblebrox. Relatable? Perhaps. But that’s a story for another time. For now, let’s gear up for the decathlon of the dog world; Hercules is ready to play!

As your friendly neighborhood bulldog, I must insist you cheer your heart out from the sides. Pass me a chew toy, won’t you? The game is just getting started.

The End.

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