Hey hooman! 🐾 Just a quick pupdate: I, Lucy, charmed Pawsburgh last night, starring as a four-legged Cinderella at the fanciest of balls. 🎉 My squeaky toy? Safe. Those sneaky Kelpie cats? Outwitted. And my happy ever after? Shared with you. See you at sunrise for cuddles and tail wags! 🌅✨
-Lucy the Daring Chihuahua Queen

Listen to the story here

Once upon a modern twilight in Pawsburgh, yours truly – Lucy, the Chihuahua with the autumn-kissed coat – embarked on a twisted tail, I mean, tale, worthy of Brooksian wit and lore. Picture this: serene Spitz Spire in the heart of our fair town where every dog can be a king or queen for a day, or just between us, for every night that our humans think we do nothing but dream of chasing metaphorical cars.

Mercy, it was there at Spitz Spire where the stage was set for a caper grand enough to make even the boldest of Big Bad Wolves negotiate his dental plan. This was it, the backdrop for my own version of the Cinderella story. Only it wasn’t a slipper that was misplaced during the midnight brouhaha – oh no – it was a squeaky toy, one of my many cherished possessions, and essential for the caninified grandeur of my retelling.

But wait, let’s not get ahead of ourselves.

Every doggone Cinderella needs her overbearing step-siblings, doesn’t she? Enter the mischievous felines from Kelpie Keys – where every cat’s a pirate and every pirate’s as sneaky as they come. They had nothing better to do than plot some tomfoolery against this sophisticated Chihuahua. They aimed to crash the grand yappy hour at Tail-Twitching Treats, a gala of such refined taste that even the pickiest of Poodles would raise a glass of bubbly… water.

Preparations for the ball had me prancing into The Barking Boutique, turning heads with my lusciously fluffy tail. “Darling, you shine!” the poodle behind the counter squealed. After all, it’s not every day you see a Chihuahua channeling style and poise with such panache. I selected a ravishing ribbon, red as the ripest apple you ever did see, to crown my ears – a modern tiara for a furry fairytale princess.

I danced the night away at the ball, making a quite notable entrance, may I add, twirling under the chandeliers of Shepherd’s Shawarma. The fragrant scents of roasted delights tickled my fancy, but nary a citrus was present, for they knew of my infamous nose-twitching disdain for the sour fruits. As the enchanted evening unfolded, my trusted squeaky toy, shaped like a fair carriage, lay snug under my ribbon-tied cloak, hidden, but ever present.

Then, in classic antic style, the clock struck the canine equivalent of midnight. My four-legged friends began to yawn, and I knew the game was afoot. The crafty cats sprang from their hiding spots, but oh… they hadn’t seen it coming – this was no downtrodden pup’s story, no sir.

I let out a bark and surged forth, swift as Cinderella fleeing the scene, only instead of leaving my toy behind, I performed a fetching bit of deception. By the time the cats reached the spot I’d vacated, their paws found nothing but whimsy and their faces met by the laughter of every dog in Pawsburgh.

Returning home, beneath the beams of dawn that peeked just so through the trees in Pawsburg Park, I whispered my adventure to the gentle-hearted soul who cared for me, their smile my happy ever after. And as my tale ended, the squeaky toy resting steadfast under my pillow was my feathered quill, jotting down the night’s enchanting exploits that, I promise you, would make even Mel Brooks chuckle with delight.

Thus concludes a delightful slice of Lucy’s life, a vignette steeped in fairy tale whimsy, doggy twists, and a plot thicker than the fluffiest of fur – until the next nighttime caper, my friends.

The End.