Hey Lily, you’ve missed quite the paw-ty here! I turned detective, solved a Thanksgiving mystery, rescued the parade from the paws of a lonely trickster, and learned the true meaning of feasting together. It’s all about love and belonging, not just the treats! 🐾 Can’t wait to tell you all about it. The Shadow sends his thanks too! 🦴 Hugs, Coco 🐶💕

Listen to the story here

Oh, you wouldn’t believe the tail I’ll wag for you! It was the eve of that cherished feast ‘o plenty in Pawsburg, the annual Thanksgiving Day parade, and I, Coco, found myself suntanning on the porch, my button eyes squinting against the marmalade glow. But little did I know, a shroud of mystery was about to envelop our beloved town.

The stage was set at Harrier Harbor where floats as grand as your furthest fetched dreams bobbed in anticipation. But oh, the horror! Trinkets torn asunder, streamers in disarray, and not one, not two, but an entire treasure trove of roast chicken from Wagging Whisk – poof – vanished like the peace of a postal truck approaching.

Flanked by my crew – Gaston with his lustrous ‘do, Bella, nose abuzz with queries, and dear ol’ sage Rufus – we set forth on a caper most curious. A stubborn creature I may be, but a mystery demands a mind as limber as a young pup’s hind legs.

“I say, the audacity!” Gaston bemoaned at the sight of Pinscher Plaza, once adorned, now forlorn. Bella’s beagle eyes peeled for clues the way I peel away from citrus. And Rufus, his gait wiser, slower than our frenzied pace, reminded us, “The spirit of Thanksgiving isn’t in the garnish, it’s in the gathering.”

Through the dim light of dusky lanterns, we sniffed from Topaz Terrier Town to The Howling Husky Hardware Store, collecting whispers like so many fallen leaves. Pieces of a puzzle, leading us to a heart that yearned not for food nor fanfare, but to belong.

The culprit, they called him “The Shadow,” a dog draped in the very tapestries he’d torn from our joy. A soul not darker than the night, but lost in it. Snippets of his tale unwound in every alley and under every silent stone – left here alone, watching the jubilance of years from a distance that never dared to shorten.

‘Twas I who chanced upon him in the quiet alleys behind The Barking Boutique, his sadness as tangible as the squeak within my cherished red ball. And with the softest touch and tender words, I invited The Shadow to stand not against us, but with us. “Every dog has its day, and this,” I gently spoke, “is yours too.”

Oh, with what reluctancy his heart crept out from the armor of shadows! Gaston lent his charm, Bella her insatiable curiosity, and Rufus, that kind growl of forgiving times past.

Together we mended the torn, tasted the shared feast, and lit the way for floats that now bore not just decoration, but the weighty emblem of unity. And it was just as Rufus proclaimed: in the end, it’s not about the turkey or the trimmings, but the tails wagging in tandem.

And so, as the parade unfurled and the music trumpeted our triumph, we saw plenty more than an array of hounds on display. We saw what it means to embrace the castaway, to carve more than roast chicken, to carve refuge within one’s heart for a stranger now friend. And The Shadow – ah, he cast off that dreary name, revealing a glint of gratitude in his once dim eyes.

That thanksgiving, my dear human Lily, my tale spun on the back porch, spilling into your lap, could only be matched by the succulence of the chicken we shared. For in Pawsburg, we learnt more than the culprit’s name; we learnt what fills the bowl of life with true warmth – it’s the love shared beneath the bristle and bark, it’s the parade of hearts marching in unison.

Now come closer, Lily, for I promise the next tale shall whisk you away as does my fur in the kindest of gales. Oh, how I adore these late afternoon confidences between sunbeam and silk…

The End.