Hey Mom,

Believe it or not, I just saved Thanksgiving in Pawsburg by turning the town grump into the parade star! Went from sleuthing in style to uniting the pups with some Valor charm. We’ve got a new float in town, and it’s shaped like a treat – all thanks to giving a lonely schnauzer a chance. 🦴🐾🎉

Paws and reflect on that Thanksgiving spirit!

Love,
Valor

Listen to the story here

You think you know Pawsburg? I mean really know it, outside of the perfect picket-fenced kennels and fire hydrants that aren’t exclusively for relief purposes? It’s the kind of town where dogs trot to when life’s barking up the wrong tree, a town that’s got more characters than a firehouse has Dalmatians.

Take this one time, for instance—Thanksgiving was just a wag away, and I was hanging with my main muzzle, Battle, scheming over by Emerald Eskimo Estuary. Now Battle, he’s the type of hound who plays checkers when the rest of us are still sniffing the board. But even he didn’t see this coming.

There we were, about to embark on our town’s annual Thanksgiving Day parade – the one day when Spaniel Springs is swimming in gravy boats and Terrier Town can’t stop yapping about the grand floats. But this year’s celebrations went from feast to fiasco when some mysterious mongrel started making milk bones out of the floats and left half of Poodle’s Pasta with a furrowed brow and an empty pantry.

I’m Valor, by the way. Maybe you’ve heard of me? I’ve got a nose for adventure and zero tolerance for BS (that’s Bad Situations, get your mind out of the dog park). I’d normally be romping in the lush forests, giving the squirrels a run for their acorns. But duty called, and like a well-aged Stilton, I never ignore a good whiff.

So, I called a meeting at Pawprint Pizzeria, cause nothing barks brainstorming like a slice of their finest with extra cheese. The slice, not the brainstorming. A flat-faced pug named Monty spread the word—he doesn’t get much, but by dog, he got this right.

Dogs from all walks of life showed up. There was Rex, the Sheepdog with hair longer than a rain delay, and Princess, the Chihuahua who shivers like she’s always walking on thin ice. We convened, we sniffed butts (as per the custom), and we got down to the bow-wowing business.

I laid out the situation—decorations down, floats deflated, Paw Pad Thai’s pantries pillaged. It was going to take a real sleuth or, you know, an entire town of them, to sniff out this turkey of a problem.

With a wag and a plan, we fanned out across Pawsburgh faster than a greyhound on a good hare day. My leads took me to The Snooty Snout Boutique, where I donned a disguise to blend in with the upper crust (the one thing my brindle coat’s good at, besides dazzling).

Between sniffing out facts and fashion faux paws, it finally dawned on me. The saboteur was none other than Crumb, the salty Schnauzer who always sat out the parade, nursing a chewed-up toy from Puppyhood. It wasn’t just that he was lonely, it was that… well, okay yeah, it was mostly that.

But in Pawsburg, nobody’s left holding the leash. I cornered him as he was about to wreak havoc at Canine Couture Clothing. But instead of a bark, I offered a bone, extending an invite to join the paw-rade.

What can I say? Sometimes, all someone needs is to feel like they belong. Crumb’s tail went from tucked to a full-blown propeller. With a newfound purpose, he channeled his energy into the right kind of shenanigans—like adding an extra wag to the parade float’s tails.

We paraded through Pawsburg like heroes with fur capes, Crumb leading the charge, showing that even the growliest dog could roll over a new leaf. As we strutted past humans with their drooping faces pressed against their windows, I couldn’t help but feel that this is what Thanksgiving was all about—community, compassion, and a side of chaos.

So next time you’re in Spaniel Springs or sniffing around Paw Pad Thai, wag a tail to Crumb. He’s got his own float now. It looks like a giant bag of treats, and Columbus himself couldn’t have been prouder of such a discovery. There’s no case too ruff for us in Pawsburg. It’s what makes us the top dogs, now and furever.

The End.

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