Hey hooman,

Just finished an epicurean escapade in Pawsburgh with the squad, sampling briskets & tacos under the cover of stars. Navigated detours and dodged citrus traps with my bat-ears leading the way, all while adding some savory chapters to the tail of Ash the Adventurous. Belly’s full, tails still wagging, and our secret’s safe. 😉

Paws and reflect,
Ash 🐾✨

Listen to the story here

It was a glorious Tuesday evening—or so it felt, with the Clarke family nestled cozily under the hypnotic spell of some cooking show about high-stakes cheesecakes—when I, Ash of the distinctive merle coat, found myself striding with a purpose through the moonlit gates of the illustrious town of Pawsburgh, the very haven of doggy dreams and frolics known only to those who sport paws and tails.

Now, this wasn’t just any escapade. This was a caper that my friends and I had been concocting between games of fetch and dreamy naps under the caressing sun. Tonight, the objective was simple yet thrilling: to sample the finest cuisines that graced the streets of our magical canine-only metropolis.

With an air of determination, my oversized bat-like ears took the lead, steering me toward Pointer Pier—a destination sure to begin our evening with a splash. My esteemed companions and fellow adventurers, Sammy, Lola, and Penny, were hot on my tail, their panting breaths weaving symphonies of anticipation through the night air.

“Right,” squeaked Penny, as much a puff of courage as she was fluff, “first stop, Bulldog’s BBQ!”

Ah, the scent of roasted brisket braised on a bed of flaming hickory was enough to make us drool in unison. But, just as we approached the smoke-filled haven, a conundrum unfolded before my very eyes. Between us and the mouthwatering brisket lay Briard Bridge—undergoing a most untimely renovation.

“Detour via Emerald Eskimo Estuary?” Lola’s velvety baritone suggested, her height allowing her to survey the panorama with regal ease.

Thanks to her oversight and without further ado, we scampered along the banks of the sparkling estuary, past the lithe willows that whispered secrets to my perceptive ears. Our route may have been modified, but our spirits remained buoyant as the tales these paths could tell. For it was in Pawsburgh that every twist and turn of a street held stories that could curl your tail twice over.

The estuary gave way to the sumptuous aromas of Paw Pad Thai, where the mystique of exotic spices tantalized our senses. But just as I contemplated switching culinary lanes, my gastronomic reverie was halt by the citrus ambush lurking within a dish left carelessly at the curbside. One whiff of the lemony scent and my snout crumpled in disdain—not today, sour fiend, not today.

Without losing pace, my four-legged companions and I charged toward our original quest. As we turned the corner, there it was: Terrier Tacos competing with the delectable smoke from Bulldog’s BBQ. An epicurean quandary of tail-wagging proportions—where to begin?

“Mes amis,” I chimed amidst rumbling bellies. “Why choose? Can we not savor all the subtleties of Pawsburgh’s palette? From the zesty tang of a taco to the succulent serenade of brisket?”

Cue a chorus of barks and howls in agreement, a ceremonial debate settled with a jovial sprint to Bulldog’s BBQ, where we indulged to our hearts’ content, my ears tuning in to the smoky symphony of bliss.

And so, with bellies round and stories richer, we capped our night with a visit to The Woofy Bakery for treats—sans citrus, evidently.

As I pawed my way homeward with Sammy, Lola, and Penny, we knew that our owners would be none the wiser of our culinary caper—safe for the occasional barbecued burp or telltale crumb. For, after all, the magical escapades of Pawsburgh were ours to keep, woven into the wondrous tapestry of a dog’s life that humans could only dream of. It was doggy delight at its quintessential best, where every sniff held the prospect of adventure, and every wag was a tale untold.

The End.