Hey, just caught you up on today’s tail-chasing caper in Pawsburgh – almost snagged squeaky toys at the Snooty Snout, but got busted by the cashier Shih Tzu (awkward!). Turned heist into heart-to-heart. Guess we’re more Robin Hood wannabes than pros. 🐾 Paws for thought! – Pepper 🌶️

Listen to the story here

The sun had barely winked awake, casting a sliver of light on Pawsburgh, when I heard the call. That’s right, folks, your gal Pepper, with Sydney the koala gripped in my jaws, was up to something. But no ordinary day of tagging tail or rolling in the grass—today was heist day.

It dawned clear, a respite from the usual rain, which I loathe like those devilish carrots. A good omen, I thought, as I trotted along Pointer Pier, conspiratorial thoughts swirling like the gray in my fur. My friends, a motley crew of mutts and pedigrees, gathered near the dock.

There was a scent of adventure—and chicken, thanks to a waft from Golden Grub—that filled the air, setting my tail off into its customary frenzy.

Rusty, a burly Beagle with a heart as grand as his appetite, was the inside dog. He’d sourced the layout of The Snooty Snout Boutique from the shitzu cashier whose attention he’d captured—just one bat of his long eyelashes, and she spilled the kibble.

“What’s the four-one-one, Rusty?” I barked, my gaze never leaving the boutique across the street.

His whisper was like a growl on a low simmer, “Pepper, those new squeaky toys—the ones shaped like mailmen—just came in. They’re locked in the storage, but I’ve got the keycard.”

I flicked an ear. “This caper’s gonna make history. We’ll be the Robin Hoods of Pawsburgh.” My crew, eyes bright with mischief, nodded their furry heads.

I’d planned it down to the whisker. We’d use the commotion at Dog’s Delicacies to create a distraction—Sal, the Dashhound, would feign yet another ‘existential crisis’; honestly, he has more drama than a soap opera. While Marbles, the Dalmatian with a nose for nuance, would pickpocket the keycard off Rusty, easy as a tick off a hound’s back.

I led them through a maze of alleyways, closer to our target. We waited in the shadows of Jade Jack Russell Junction.

“Pepper, are we doing the right thing?” whispered Trixie, a kind-hearted Golden Retriever with the morals of a saint. But adventure was the fire in our bellies, and we were all hungry for a taste.

“Trixie,” I licked my paw dramatic, like, “we’re liberating these toys for the greater good. The thrill of the chase? That marrow bone of life?”

I could see she was sold, so on I went, “We get in, we get out, we tail it back before our humans finish their dinner.”

I issued the bark, and Sal began his act. Howls and whimpering echoed, reaching a crescendo as he flopped over, tragic and pitiful. A crowd, a sea of concerned snouts, flocked to Sal’s side.

That’s when Marbles did his part—slipping through the legs and looping back to us with the keycard faster than you could say ‘bone appetit’. I signaled. It was go time.

We snuck into The Snooty Snout Boutique, as silent as cats—don’t tell them I said that. The toys were just where Rusty said.

We stuffed our mouths, our mission almost complete, when the dreaded clink of a lock had us freeze. It was the cashier shitzu, her doe eyes wide with shock.

“Pepper?” she whispered, betrayal etched in her features.

I dropped the toys, hanging my head. “I—We—It’s not what it looks like.”

“An inside job,” she tilted her head. “I thought we were friends.”

The toys forgotten, I stepped forward. Sydney fell from my jaw. “Listen, Lucille,” I said, suddenly feeling every bit the rogue I was. “We all live for the chase, don’t we? Even if it’s just for something that squeaks when you bite it.”

She eyed Sydney, nudging the abandoned toy with her nose.

“We’ll put them all back,” I crooned, my eyes pleading for understanding. “No harm, no foul…”

Lucille’s gaze softened. “Rusty’s been in the doghouse for weeks, trying to court me. If this is his idea of a date, he needs a new playbook.”

As the stores’ front lights flicked on, I realised Pawsburgh might be a place for adventure, but my heist had taken an unexpected twist into the land of the heart. Tomorrow, I promised myself, I’d stick to visiting Aunt Maricela and Uncle Mike—for a little less excitement and a lot more chicken.

The End.