- Dog Tales
- November 27, 2023
Barking Up a Melodic Storm: The Pawsburgh Pawpella Festival: A jade PawWord Story
Hey Maggie, guess what? π I led The Bark-Tones to a tail-waggin’ triumph at the Pawpella Festival! We howled & harmonized, Bella’s beagle aria, Oscar’s bass booms and my maestro moves stirred the soul of Pawsburgh. Embracing our bloopers just made the show purr-fect, oh, and even Whiskers gave us two paws up! πΎ Dreams were barked into reality tonight. Hugs and head tilts, Jade πΆβ¨
In a whisker of a moment, the quiet hamlet of Pawsburg transformed each night into a stage of enchantment, and I, Jade, was no stranger to its delights. Therein lay the Jade Jack Russell Junction, not my namesake but just as lively as yours truly.
Tonight wasn’t just any night. The cats were out of town at a conference β “Nine Lives to Live,” they called it. So there we were, barking out plans in huddled masses at Mutt Munchies, paws abuzz with anticipation. It was going to be the very first ‘Pawsburgh Pawpella Festival,’ and we, the charismatic canines of ‘The Bark-Tones’, had taken on the challenge of wowing the crowd.
Our band was a motley crew with a shared love for music. There was Oscar, the dachshund who played an improvised bass using a rubber band stretched over an old shoebox. Bella, the beagle who had a howl so melodious it could make a fire hydrant weep. And then there was me β I fancied myself the four-pawed version of a maestro, leading the trouvettes with nothing but charisma and my endlessly wagging tail metronome.
Rehearsal had been… well, let’s just say a barky affair.
“Jade!” Bella had huffed, her floppy ears drooping in exasperation, “Decide already, are we going acapella, or are we doing a theatrical bark-along?”
Throwing her a look of mock contemplation, I quipped, “Why choose, Bella? With the right tail-sync, we can pull off both!” That earned me some tail wags and an eye roll, smothered in beagle laughter.
Our practice sessions were collaged between the artisanal doggy smells of Dog’s Delicacies and the delectable wafts from Pup’s Parfait. Somehow, the scent of their haute-cuisine kibble fused into our music, adding zest to our harmonies.
Despite our enthusiasm, the obstacle of stage-fright loomed. Oscar’s legs would shiver, Bella would start howling off-key, and I feared my zoomies would choose the worst moment to erupt.
It was Whiskers, yes, a cat, who, lounging at The Groom Room window, provided an epiphany. “What’s a performance without a dash of the unexpected?” he mused. “Embrace your mishaps. A cat never concerns itself with falling; it revels in the landing.”
Inspired, we took to the dog-walk just outside The Furry Friends Art Gallery. There, before Pawsburgh’s expectant eyes, we let loose. Bella wove melodies, Oscar strummed his heart out, and I, oh, I twirled with shadows, chased my tail mid-verse, and crooned to the setting sun.
Our pawpella had layers β it was a heartful goulash of barks, yips, and rambunctious rhythms, a spectacle that had tails across the audience wagging in time, even those of the ornery Bulldog Brothers.
In the post-performance glow, well after the last treat had been devoured at Mutt Munchies, Whiskers sauntered over. “You lot are quite the show,” he commented, whiskers a-tilt, “For a bunch of barkers, that is.”
Back at my cottage, as I curled up on Maggie’s lap, the last of the sunlight folded into the creases of her armchair. I recounted my tales; about the harmonies shared, the fears conquered, and the joy of just… letting go. Maggie would chuckle, her hands weaving through my coat, unaware of the magic our little Pawsburgh held when she turned her head to dream.
And outside, the river still whispered, but tonight it carried with it the hum of a melody, one of unity, laughter, and a terrier’s attempts at musical greatness.
The End.
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