Hey 😎,

Just conquered an epic jailbreak from Doggie Daycare (totally innocent – begonia incident was *not* me). Joined forces with Bella, Duke, & feline mastermind Mochi. Executed a heist with paws & whiskers— now I’m a free pup soaking up the moonlight steak of freedom. Guess even in Pawsburg, every dog has its fairytale ending.

Tails up,
Sim 🐾✨

P.S. – Remind Jamie, I keep my promises.

Listen to the story here

In the wee hours, when the sleepy town’s only disruptions were the mischievous whispers of the night breeze and the occasional serenade of a distant siren, I, Sim, found myself in a pickle akin to the ol’ Houdini in his watery vault. Only my tank was made of bars, and I was in the slurpin’ heart of Doggie Daycare—the one place in Pawsburg you didn’t want to end up when the sun went down.

The thing is, I was framed—wrongly accused of nibbling on the Mayor’s prized begonias. Not that I couldn’t appreciate a good flora every now and then, but my tastes ran more towards beef and sweet potatoes, sans botanical garnish.

“Sim,” Bella’s voice was soft but insistent from the other side of the cold, steel bars. Her brown eyes glimmered with the reflection of a sly idea. “We’re breaking you out.”

“Breaking out? Is this a caper? Because the last caper I was involved in was spread on a cracker and, frankly, a bit overrated.” I tried to wink with my special eye, but it’s not easy when you’re facing an injustice.

Duke lifted his spotted snout as if sensing the smoky alarms of conspiracy. His tail thumped a silent code on the shelter’s linoleum floor—a canine Morse likely spelling ‘F-R-E-E-D-O-M’ or ‘S-A-U-S-A-G-E’. With him, it could go either way.

“And how do you propose we pull off this heist?” I asked, a curl of skepticism lifting my lip.

“Well, my dear Watson,” Bella said, channelling her inner Sherlock Bones, “that’s where Mochi comes in.”

At the mention of her name, the petite feline—or should I say honorary pup—slipped into the light, a silhouette so daring it gave the darkness second thoughts.

“Bella’s right,” Mochi purred. “I’ve walked these alleys and snuck past these guards. I’m the slip in their grasp, the tale they can’t quite catch.”

“And I’ve got thumbs,” threw in Duke.

In the world of elaborate plans and tomfoolery, thumbs were akin to royalty. We exchanged conspiratorial grins, the sort that wordlessly forecasted the mischief ahead.

The plan was simple: Duke would distract the on-shift guard with the age-old trick of the accidental fire alarm trickery. Meanwhile, Mochi, with feline finesse, would sneak up to the keys hanging temptingly on the pegboard. And Bella? She was our eyes and ears on Schnauzer Street, keeping lookout and let’s face it—she was good at finding things. Problem was, she was better at finding things than letting them go.

When Duke’s barking finally echoed through the halls like an alarm, I knew it was showtime. Mochi slinked toward the keys with a stealth that would make a ninja hang up its shurikens. The guard, blustering about like a tumbleweed in a storm, didn’t notice the cat with cunning for days or the keys making their great escape in her mouth.

Minutes ticked by like dry kibble on linoleum until Mochi reappeared, her whiskers twitching with triumph. A turn, a click, and the gate to my confinement swung open as grandly as the doors to Shepherd’s Shawarma at dinner time.

As we rendezvoused at Briard Bridge, I felt a glow warmer than the belly of a pup who’d just discovered his first sunbeam. Freedom, as it turned out, tasted a lot like friendship—a flavor even more divine than my favorite squeaky rubber chicken, Poultry Columbus.

“Here’s to Pawsburg,” I barked, my heart afire with the thrill of the night’s escapade. “Where every dog has its day, and tonight, Sim has broken away!”

And in the hush that followed, sprinkled with the echoes of our laughter, I could almost hear Jamie’s voice, “You did good, Sim. You did good.”

The End.