- Dog Tales
- November 21, 2023
Pawsburgh: Where Redemption Barks Loudest: A Jersey PawWord Story
Hey, just a quick pupdate – I’m Jersey, the unlikely Rottweiler protagonist working for my slice of dog heaven in Pawsburgh. Scored big in the good deeds department today, saving Max from dumpster delicacies and giving Old Man Schnauzer a surprise b-day treat. I’m learning that being a celestial good pup isn’t about the tail wags you get, but the paw prints you leave behind. All while missing Jamie and resisting Bulldog’s BBQ – it’s a whole new level of temptation training here! Tail wags & dream chases, 🐾 Jersey
There I was, in the afterbelly of the universe – you know, Pawsburgh – with my tail wagging like a metronome set on allegro, and the sun caressing my glossy black and brown fur. It was almost perfect, except, I had a nagging feeling in my bones – the kind that tells you something’s off, like when you sniff out a treat but can’t find it.
I’m Jersey, by the way – the kind of Rottweiler who’d score a superhero gig in a doggy flick if Hollywood ever dialed up my number. Instead of guarding the parks with the fierce devotion of a secretly soft-hearted sentinel, here I was, trying to earn my Kibbles of Kindness—Pawsburgh’s version of celestial brownie points.
My usual haunt’s Pointer Pier, but I was prancing down Affenpinscher Avenue, all casual-like, when I caught a whiff of Bulldog’s BBQ that made my heart do somersaults. It was like Jamie was whispering from that big kitchen in the sky, telling me, “Go on, indulge!”
But wait—hadn’t Jamie taught me temperance alongside her secret chicken treat recipe? With a sigh deeper than my love for chew toys, I trotted away – one point for Jersey in the quest for posthumous pet perfection.
So, I’m looping around Vizsla Valley, where bouncy legs meet greenery, and it hits me: I’ve got to do something good, something that says, “Jersey, you’re more than just a pretty face with a muscular frame.”
I spot Max by The Pawsome Pet Pharmacy, nose-deep into something obviously not canon by any pharmacy standards. “Max, drop it, you scavenger!” I exclaim, my guardian instincts kicking in. He obliges, looking a tad sheepish. Two Kibbles of Kindness points, jackpot!
Slipping into The Wagging Tail Bookstore, because knowledge is power (a.k.a., more Kibbles of Kindness), I find Luna looking puzzled at the array of literature, her whiskers twitching in consternation.
I chuckle. “Going beyond the nine lives memoir, Luna?”
She flicks an ear, amused. “Just keeping the neurons nimble, Jersey. What can I do for ya?”
“Well,” I start, “I’m trying to get on the universal good doggo board. Got any wisdom, bibliophile style?”
She purred deep, and it wasn’t even the “I’m fed up” kind of purr, more like an “aha” moment. “Jersey, it’s not about the scoreboard. It’s doing the right thing even if nobody’s watching – or sniffing around for Kibbles.” She taps a paw on “The Enlightenment of Furry Fellows.”
I leave with a borrowed book tucked in my mouth – because apparently, guardian angels recommend self-help books too.
Later, at Puppy Patisserie, while dreaming of chicken-infused savory treats, I gift a newly baked cake to Old Man Schnauzer for his Gotcha Day – I didn’t even get to lick the icing. That’s three full points, and let me tell ya, it felt heavenly.
Finally, as day turned to dusk and the vibe in Pawsburgh softened from playful to serene, I sprawled beneath a twinkly lit tree in Pointer Pier, the water lapping a calming rhythm.
Was I perfect in my past life, back on Earth? Puh-lease, I once ate a whole tray of Jamie’s herb chicken when she wasn’t looking. Did I enjoy every juicy bit? Obviously. Do I now wait patiently for treats? Relatively speaking.
But that’s Pawsburgh for ya – full of second chances and doggy redemption. It’s not about avoiding the vacuum cleaner of life; it’s about finding the courage to bark back. It’s about learning, sharing, and yes, the occasional big oak shade nap, even in the afterbelly.
And every time I resist the allure of Bulldog’s BBQ or pass that squeaky blue ball to a puppy who needs a play, I like to think Jamie’s watching, nodding, and maybe tossing me a celestial chicken treat for the road.
The End.
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