Hey Mom,

I transformed into Tazbo Mania, the unexpected star of Pawsburgh High’s Pet School Musical, with a side of tail-chasing and howling harmonies. Our band’s unique sound went viral faster than a squirrel with its tail on fire! Turns out, a Pit Bull mix and his buddies can turn woofs into tunes and dreams into legendary school performances. Who knew?

Catch you at home,
Taz 🐾🎤

Listen to the story here

Ah, let me tell you about the day I became Taz of Pawsburgh High, the four-legged furball behind the most unexpected musical prodigy this side of the Doggy Milky Way.

I recall awakening that morning with an itch between my shoulder blades, the harbinger of a day marked by the extraordinary—or perhaps I just needed a good scratch. Nevertheless, I kissed my mother goodbye, the scent of her perfume lingering like a promise, as I trotted off to school, my thoughts as muddled as a feral cat’s love life.

Our motley crew of musical aspirants gathered in the quartz-glittering courtyard of Quartz Qimmiq Quarter, where the canine chatter barked louder than my cravings for chicken. Luke and Paco, my noble compatriots, flanked my sides, their eyes full of dreams bigger than the bones buried beneath Diamond Doberman Dunes.

“Taz, dear, you’ve got two left paws and a voice that could scare the mailman away. And that’s saying something since our mailman is a St. Bernard,” drawled Paco, as we contemplated our entry into the world of interspecies pop.

“If creativity was measured in enthusiasm, we’d have nothing to worry about,” Luke added, yawning despite his words.

The auditions were scheduled at The Pawfect Training Center, which, I believe, had never witnessed a spectacle quite like ours. We took our places on stage, a cacophony of nerves, excitement, and Luke’s inexplicable desire to howl the entirety of “Who Let The Dogs Out?”

You must understand, musical coordination is slightly harder to master when your rhythm section is inclined to chase its own tail during the crescendo. Yet, as we launched into our opening number, a paw-tapping ballad of bravado — “Bark at the Moon” — there was a flicker of something that wasn’t entirely awful. A spark that made Sniffer’s Sandwiches’ most apathetic server, a gruff bulldog who usually only paused to lick his chops, look up from the day’s slop and listen.

“Was that…harmony?” questioned Paco, his ears erect with disbelief as we reached the song’s conclusion.

We basked in the stunned silence that followed, which I optimistically chose to interpret as awestruck wonder but may just as well have been shared mortification.

“Well, at least we’ll be remembered,” I offered, more to myself than anyone else. “Perhaps more like how one remembers food poisoning than a first kiss, but still.”

As we filed out of The Pawfect Training Center, I found comfort in the reliability of Spa for Paws, where I sought solace in a suds-filled tub and a profound philosophical reflection on whether I was more flea than Beethoven.

Our band’s fortune, however, took a turn as surprising as finding Labrador Lunch serving vegetarian cuisine. Word of our peculiar audition had spread, and our melodious mishap had garnered us an unexpected cult following. Every pup from Schnauzer Street to the Diamond Doberman Dunes was humming our tune, paws tapping in unwitting appreciation.

The night of the final showcase, we took to the stage with tails wagging and hearts pounding like a pack of puppies on espresso shots. The curtain lifted, the spotlight blazed, and there we stood, Pawsburgh High’s most unexpected band. And as our voices rose in chicken-fuelled, riotous harmony, the crowd howled along, making Pawsburgh’s Pet School Musical a night to remember, a grand caper that only an audacious Brindle Pit Bull and his stalwart friends could deliver.

So, dear readers, from the fantastical forays of Pawsburgh to the stage that bore our serendipitous tunes, remember this: In a world that too often barks, sometimes you just have to sing.

The End.

Share This Story: