Hey Mom,

Adventured through Pawsburgh, heroically vanquished the Vacu-Monster, saved my furry friends & learned that even a pup’s courage can unplug fears. Home now, safe & sound, ready for belly rubs & treats. Can’t wait to share my tail-wagging tale with you!

Woofs & Wags,
Cooper 🐾

Listen to the story here

I can scarcely believe the adventure that awaited at the edge of dawn today, something beyond the usual cavorts at Newfoundland Nook or the chewy marvels at Beagle Bagels. A day, my dear human, that could turn the white in my coat to snowy static if I understood such things.

I woke to the absence of you, and with the bristling of my independence, thought to make the most of Pawsburgh. My four-legged gallants were surely up for it too. My tail wagged to the rhythm of possibilities, as I nosed open the entrance to our secret world; a place where the humdrum of kennels and collars faded into a wild rumpus of Dutch courage.

The Doggie Daycare was my first pit stop, a place that put any prestige puppy daycare to shame. They serve bones, not biscuits, and every tail finds its own wag. I trotted proudly, my white coat emblazoned with brown patches like a dapple on a canvas of clouds.

But this, my unsuspecting human, is where the predictable ends and the peculiar begins, like a Dorothy Parker verse, equal parts dread and dry wit.

You see, as I strolled, I noticed the oddest of things—a lamp post flickering in broad daylight at Ruby Rottweiler Ridge. No matter, I thought initially. Human gizmos. Still, when you’ve worn the same four paws your entire life, you tend to notice when the street furniture starts misbehaving. And then, at Spaniel Springs, the water bubbled with a strange hue. Now, I’m no connoisseur of municipal water systems, but even I know that’s not standard.

Concluding the obvious need for sustenance before further inspection, I diverted to Dachshund’s Deli. I was met not by the familiar scent of meaty offerings but an eerie silence, the very air like thick gravy—fit for a king, indeed.

Milo the terrier—always a frisky fellow—was there, quivering beneath a table. “Cooper!” he yelped. “Didn’t you see it?” he said. “The Vacu-Monster! It moves without human hands, gobbles without a mouth. Prowling Pawsburgh, it does!”

My rope toy fell from my mouth. The gravity of Milo’s consternation pinched me with dread. A rogue vacuum? Surely this was the fabric of canine nightmares, but here, at high noon?

I gathered my resolve like humans collect their thoughts and led Milo out, sighting more our furry comrades, all a tremor over a spectral clean. The shops, the nooks, even Pup’s Parfait—deserted.

A dog’s life is not without its rain, and indeed, it began to fall as if to dampen our investigation. Yet, with a bellow fitting Cooper the Brave, I rallied the pack. “To fear is to lose a grip on the rope toy of life!” I proclaimed, or something of equal Parker-esque spark. Together, we paced through the strange atmosphere, our paws deciding fate.

Beneath The Wagging Tail Bookstore, we found it, the source of misadventure—the Vacu-Monster, a beast of wires and whirs, thundering alive sans human. We stood in a furry stand-off with the mechanical maelstrom until I spied its plug, loose from the wall socket, as if by some fluke it had sought its own electric sustenance.

With a heroic jolt, I approached, my paws steady, my heart steady-er, and I tugged the monstrous power cord from the wall, ceasing its roar. Rain ceased, breathing resumed, and tails began their wag once more through Pawsburgh.

As I returned home, back to you, my fearless expedition completed, I pondered whether to recount the tale. But then, a storyteller’s heart, even if caged behind a fur coat, yearns to share. And you, dear human, make the grandest audience. Now, as my tail wags and my coat dries by your side, I wonder… would you believe it if I told you?

Night beckons, and as you sleep, I gaze out the window, my heart bold with whispers of Pawsburgh, knowing dear human, our adventures never truly end.

The End.

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