Hey there, it’s your secret agent Carla. Just had another wild night in Pawsburg, filled with pizza, adventure, and too many tail-wagging exploits. Max, Timmy, and I painted the town red! Really missed you, but hey, someone’s gotta keep the humans in check. PS: I’m still not a fan of lemons! Wags, Carla 🐾

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In the balmy twinkle of the eclipsed moon at the zenith, I, Carla, make my clandestine escape into the mystical Pawsburg – a town of frolics and frivolities, shielded from the mundane worries of the human world. Just think of it, a paradise free from the torment of citrusy fruits!

The town lights flicker in sync with my pounding heart as I approach my favorite haunts.

Upper Black Bulldog Bay with its towering, majestic edifices brings me the first dose of adventure. Roaming the dim lit lanes, my nose twitches, recognizing the scent of mischief in the air. My team- incomparable Max – his golden coat golden ratio to the golden goodness of his heart; and intriguing Timmy with his knack for getting canned into cabinets, waits expectantly around the corner. Our journey has just begun, through the precarious adventure-laden paths.

We traverse the confines of our haven, trying to outpace our shadows, the silence of Pawsburg punctuated only by our woofs of approval. Our halt is at the bay’s famed ‘Pupperoni Pizza.’ The moment the cheese-laden pizza touches my palate, the taste eclipses my memories of brilliant, peanut-butter-stuffed bacon strips waiting for me back home.

Tonight, victory over the succulent pizza echoes around the town, my joyous bark resonating off the brick walls. A flicker of pang reminds me of Ezra’s absence, the comfort of his embrace. In Pawsburg, I forget my human ties, yet essential links to Pupperton tug at my heartstrings.

The pilgrim in me continues forward, strolling along the fetching shores of the Boxer Beach, observing the grandeur of the North Chihuahua Castle from afar. The soft whisper of the wind jabbers Bronzian poetry to my ears, cascading stories of brave four-legged warriors who called Pawsburg their home centuries before our times.

Our sojourn ends at our favorite hideout- The Dapper Dog Salon. It’s here we highlight our day’s newest conquests and lick our wounds of defeat. Max, largely the peacekeeper of our group, and Timmy, our sharp cabinet-strategist, do most of the talking. I soak in their chatter, my heart filled with the richness of camaraderie.

No words are spoken of my disdain for citrusy fruits. It is a tale known with the certainty of universal truth among my friends. Instead, I recount tales of my favorite pig toy- the squeaky soldier- who bears the burdens of my fascination and rough play. The magnitude of my victories as marked by each squeak makes Max’s ears perk up with curiosity and draws good-hearted laughs from Timmy’s charmed audience.

The arrival of dawn signals a reluctant parting by the realms of Pawsburg, and the prospect of an unnoticed exit hangs in the air. As I pad back to my human world, I can’t help but carry Pawsburg in my heart, its charming locales, and the tales of triumph and defeat. This is my second home, my secret, my adventure, and my heart’s delight. Tomorrow, in the tender gaze of the setting sun, history shall fulfill its promise of repetition under the watchful eyes of the moon.

Until then, I am Carla, a dog of two worlds, a tale unlike any other.

The End.

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