Hey there,

It’s me, Zed. Just a quick update: Tonight, I met with Bentley and Bullseye at Bark and Bites over some roast chicken, plotting a shift in canine politics. We’re looking at some serious paw-litical changes soon – the pro-celery era is coming to an end, we’re planning a major comeback for chicken! Oh, and watch out for Bullseye, he’s playing a double agent. Pawsburg politics is getting thrilling, but don’t worry – every dog will have its day.

Catch you soon,
Z-Man.

Listen to the story here

It was another clandestine night in Pawsburg and as I, Zed, woke up after a sweltering afternoon sleep. Shaking off the remnants of my slumber, I glanced warily at the hands of the clock. It felt like the town was huddled under a blanket of cautious anticipation. The muffled silence was deafening – it was time to saunter off to Pawsburg.

Strolling past Sniff ‘n’ Snack, my senses were engulfed by the rich aroma of roast chicken, sending my tastebuds into overdrive, simultaneously reminding me of my mission. A rendezvous with Bentley and Bullseye at Bark and Bites. We had politics to discuss, a major election on the horizon for Mayor McPaws; things were about to get paw-litical.

I arrived at Bark and Bites but not without some perils. A shadowy figure had been alertly tailing me from Dalmatian Desert, making furtive movements. My bat-like ears stood at full attention, trying to catch any suspicious sounds.

“Well, took you long enough,” Bentley joked, waving down with his unwashed paws for emphasis. Bullseye rolled his eyes, the nonchalance juxtaposed with a shroud of tension that draped the room. I placed my treasured rubber chicken on the table – a symbol of sorts that the meeting had officially begun.

“Okay,” I grumbled, taking a bite, savouring the exquisite flavour, “To business. Mayor McPaws has been pushing his heavily pro-celery platform. Canine citizens are strained, longing for a taste of chicken in their public life. We need to shift this electorate.”

As our meeting ended, a sense of accomplishment and duty dawned upon us. Bentley and I resolved to work within the fur-filled hallways of Pawsburg, echoing the pro-chicken sentiment, swaying public opinions to our cause. Bullseye decided to play a double agent, trying to break into McPaws’ inner circle to uncover secrets from Retriever River to Greyhound Grove.

There were hushed whispers in the wind of espionage and political maneuvering, paw prints leading to a world where a canine of my stature made his mark. As I returned to my secret spot beneath the sprawling Elm, the entire city asleep except for the moon and me, a sense of both serene calm and heady thrill overwhelmed me. The wheel of Pawsburg politics was in motion, and I was caught up in its spin. Even with the looming threat of celery near, I somehow felt invincible under the starlit sky.

With politics as murky as the deepest recesses of my plate, I realized that to really make my mark – I would need more than just barks in a game where a whisper can be as powerful as a roar, holding Pawsburg’s future in their grips. And it felt oddly empowering. I was no longer the same sniveling pup who stumbled upon Pawsburg – I was Zed, a proud French bulldog at the heart of a political maelstrom, vowing that every dog gets its day.

The End.