Hey Mom, ever heard about rule 101 of dog park conduct? Bagel the Beagle clearly did not! Tried to spoil fetch-time with an apple toss in the river. Not cool. Devised some harmless payback with Tommy, switched his beloved beef for apple meal at Bone Appetit Feast. His horrified yelp, pure music! Peace restored, fetch-time is apple free. Who knew, revenge could be truly sweet (without any apples, of course!). Adios from your prankster pooch, Frenchie.

Listen to the story here

An average day in Pawsburg – What a misnomer! Let me tell you, every day is as far from average as apples are from my palate. Speaking of apples, an event transpired that I swear is a fable worth reciting.

You remember Tommy, my golden buddy? Well, one sunny day at the Golden Retriever River, while I was just getting into the ‘fetch-n-chill’ mode amidst the dappled green and gold landscape, this smug Beagle – Beagle the Bagel they call him – he slithered in like an unwelcome guest on Thanksgiving dinner.

Chewing on an apple, he sneered at us, his beady eyes twinkling with mischief. “Oh my Dog! What a sight, Frenchie and Tommy playing fetch. Don’t you guys ever get bored?” And then he did the unthinkable. He tossed his half-eaten, half-skewered apple into the river—the river!

“Bleugh,” I cringed, shaking my head, my stomach doing a barrel roll, as I watched the fruit bob around in the water.

Now you see, that act was pure spite, a vengeance of some sort for some petty squirrel brawl we had ages ago. And I was all up for a serving of icy cold revenge, with a dash of harmless fun.

The next week, as our townsfolk sauntered into the Bone Appetit for the Doggolicious Feast, we had our plan intact. Beagle was known for his love of Butter-Basted Beef. So, a little reordering landed the beef under Tommy’s name and a wholesome serving of ‘Appletastic Meal’ under Beagle’s.

I could hardly wait to see how this tale would turn – and oh boy, did it turn! As Beagle’s horrified yelp echoed through the restaurant’s paneled walls, we exchanged smirks over the long table. Him glaring at the baked apples and his favorite Beef dish settled cozily in front of Tommy, who was wagging his tail in contentment.

“An innocent mistake,” chimed the confused waitress and we, the proud masters of our tiny revenge saga, reveled in our victory.

It was small, indeed small, but satisfying enough to teach that ol’ Bagel a lesson about uninvited interruption and unnecessary offending of someone’s food preferences.

The ensuing days were filled with play, fun, and no unwanted apples! I guess what I want to say here is that revenge isn’t always about cruelty; sometimes it’s about asserting that everyone has the right to love chicken flavored biscuits without apple interruptions!

Pawsburg tales, my friend, are sweeter than sugar and meatier than a juicy Bone Marrow Hoagie from Ruff-n-Ready. And who better than your girl Frenchie, to savor it all and narrate it with an irresistible English bulldog charm.

The End.