Hey there, it’s Cruella! Captain of the mighty Space-Rover, scouring the galaxy for the “Unlimited Treat Planet”. Squeezing in space diners and cosmic spa breaks between naps. It’s a doggy dog world out there in the cosmos, yet I can’t help but miss Zoe’s laughter. Wish you were here, tail-wagging and all. Stay Pawsome. Cruella.

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I was going through one of my late-night bouts of canine insomniac cruises, pondering the existential crisis of fetch; when, as if out of nowhere, I found myself zooming past the Alpha Canis Majoris. Ah, the glories of Pawsburg’s Space-Rover, the only starship that runs on doggy treats!

Our mission was simple – explore uncharted territories in the great expanse of the cosmos and more importantly, locate the obscure “Unlimited Treat Planet.” Yes, you heard it right. A planet filled with unlimited treats. Just thinking about that chunky marrowbone stuck halfway between a pig’s ear and a flank steak is enough to send my tail into a playful frenzy.

At the helm was none other than Lady, her graceful Collie-mane waving like a royal banner in the zero gravity. Trust me, she makes Captain Kirk look like mere dogwalker’s assistant. Tramp served as our trusty navigator, though between you and me I think he was more interested in chewing the navigation manual than actually reading it.

Scamp, oh, you won’t believe this; was in charge of the ship’s laser cannons, ever ready to fire photon chews at any errant space squirrels we after. Kid’s got more energy than a supernova, I tell ya!

Now, I was leading the expedition. Such a dreadful responsibility, if you ask me. It’s bad enough having to decide between sleeping on the red pillow or the cushiony dog bed. Imagine being in charge of the quest for ultimate doggy happiness surrounded by the infinite darkness of the cosmos. The pressure, the expectation, the complete disregard for my afternoon naps!

We frequented the Bark ‘n’ Roll, a classy space-diner, and let me tell you, their Hotdogs-in-a-Meteor are out of this world. Afterwards, I sneak into The Dapper Dog Salon, for a little ‘spa’-ce-time. Ah, the sensation of dog shampoo in zero gravity – it’s sheer cosmic bliss, if I dare say.

As we journeyed, I often found myself missing Zoe and her, sometimes too loud but always heartfelt, laughter. I wondered if I’d ever feel the warm New York sun on my face again or if from now on, it was nothing but the cold void and a neon tennis ball to chase – a Sisyphean task of fetch if there ever was one.

You see, life’s a peculiar thing. One moment you’re in Washington Square park, the next you’re orbiting past Mars, contemplating the ironic solitude of the boundless universe. I suppose, that’s what being a pet-starship captain in Pawsburg is all about. Until next time, folks. Skyward, ho!

The End.