“Hey there, just a quick woof from your ol’ pal Cash Hendrix. Some crafty mongrel nabbed my precious DinoMax. Don’t worry though, I’ve got Bandit and Lady in my pack and we’re hot on the scent. Pawsburg’s about to witness a doggone vengeance quest like no other. Brace for those backyard tales, it’s gonna be a ruff ride. Woof out, The Ruff Rebel.”

Listen to the story here

There we were, Pawsburg’s infamous trio, Cash, Bandit and I, Lady, huddled up in a corner booth at Bow Wow Burgers. We’d usually be at Paws-A-Latte but the cheeseburgers on offer were Cash’s Achilles heel – or should I say paw? Fingers or claws nowhere visible, he murdered that burger like a natural-born carnivore. But tonight, his resilient spirit seemed restrained, lost in his wild, independent eyes. A look that spelled out trouble as clearly as the muddy paw prints we left behind on the pristine white floors.

Bandit, as if catching onto the tenseness in the air, raised his good eye and asked, “What’s the matter, Mr. Wrinkly?”

Cash let out a frustrated sigh. “DinoMax has been kidnapped.”

The revelation hung loud between us despite being said in a hushed whisper. Cash’s beloved neon-green dinosaur? The pinnacle of his squeaky toy collection. Stolen?

“Blimey, Cash! That’s quite a pickle!” Bandit, the well-adjusted Scotsman meowed.

Meanwhile, me, an Afghani Hound, raised in the lush landscapes of Surrey, couldn’t help but gasp. Cash wasn’t just a good mate; he was a legend in Pawsburg. And someone, rather audaciously, had rubbed that rockstar the wrong way.

“Who would do such a thing?” I murmured.

Cash took another bite of his cheeseburger, his eyebrows furrowed further into a knot. It was clear. Revenge was on the books. The snarky cat at The Fetching Feline Pet Emporium who always gave Cash strange looks, the obnoxious poodle that loved to dance around Cash’s penthouse balcony. Culprits filled the air, and so did possibilities.

As we left Bow Wow Burgers, Bandit hopped onto Cash’s burly back, his single eye darting around suspiciously. I slipped into my elegant trot, ready to take on the world for my friend. Pawsburg was no longer a safe haven. The Eastern White Westie Woods seemed more sinister, the Siberian Summit echoed eerily, even the waters of the Golden Retriever River flowed placidly, as if mourning a loss.

“We’ll find DinoMax, buddy!” Bandit tried to light up Cash’s mood. “This city has seen you take on a broccoli; they certainly can’t hide a squeaky dinosaur.”

But Cash seemed miles away, his strong snout sniffed the air, reading stories only he understood. His paw tightened around DinoMax’s squeaker he’d found next to his penthouse door earlier. One thing was certain: Pawsburg was going to witness the revenge story of a lifetime, and we were about to serve it cold. Like broccoli.

The End.