Hey there, it’s your wild-hearted Lucy! Got lost with Alfie chasing after Ducky, found ourselves marooned on an island, but we survived – broccoli, bonding, and all! Back home now, realizing that anywhere can be our Pawsburg with the right company. Much love, Lulu 🐾

Listen to the story here

This is a tale that began on a regular Pawsburg day, the day I found myself far from East Pug Palace, further still from the Black Bulldog Bay, and as luck would have it, lost.

It all started, as most mischief does, with a favorite toy: Ducky. Oh, that yellow creature of rubber! Alfie and I had been tossing Ducky around in Pawsburg park when a gust of wind plunged it into the river. Alfie and I exchanged a glance and both plunged in after it, our golden manes bouncing in the wind.

I remember briefly catching a glimpse of Western Husky Hill before everything fell dark and I blacked out. So there we were, naive pups, stranded on an island that bore no resemblance to our beloved Pawsburg.

Waking up on this nameless island wasn’t easy. Our first thoughts? Ducky. But Ducky was nowhere in sight, lost in the unknown depth just as we were. It struck me, sometimes, the things we love can lead us to unexpected places. It felt like life without Ducky couldn’t be half as fun.

Our first few days were spent exploring. We had limited choices for food, I, who relished the grilled salmon from Bow Wow Bistro, and Alfie, who had an equal appreciation for the steaks at Bow Wow Burgers, were left to scavenge. Regrettably, the meals that topped our list were vegetables, and amongst those, the dreaded broccoli.

As luck would have it, my enemy turned savior; the broccoli on the island and I achieved a newfound symbiosis of sorts. Learning to tolerate broccoli was my first victory on the island; it was also the first day I laughed after the incident. Alfie, who could always make a game out of anything, organized a ‘Broccoli Fest,’ a humorous echo of Pawsburg’s festivities.

Days turned into weeks, and I missed the hustle of the neighborhood squirrels, my quiet afternoons in Pawsburg park, the familiar fragrance of the hydrangeas. I missed the comfort of The Pampered Pooch Salon, where I got my regular trims. Most of all, I missed Ducky.

But being with Alfie, I realized how lucky I was. The bond we had was the one thing keeping me sane amidst the wilderness. The island was a test, a meticulous examination of our friendship. I wouldn’t have survived without him. Just as I wouldn’t want to go back to Pawsburg without him.

As time passed, we managed to create our small world on the island. A world filled with love, support, and companionship. And just as we settled into this life, help arrived. They found us, Alfie and I.

We returned to Pawsburg with much fanfare, greeted by the cheers of all dogs. We returned to our preferred meals, our regular frolics, and of course, our beloved Ducky, who was retrieved from the Park river the day of our disappearance.

Looking back at the island days, it strikes me: Pawsburg may give me the solace I’d learned to love, but it was the island which taught me survival and the strength of friendship. It made me realize that any place can be a Pawsburg if you have the right companion beside you, and even the absence of a Ducky can’t change that.

The End.