Hey Mom,

Crazy day as Pawsburgh’s skater dog peacekeeper! Broke up a bark-fest, ducked a lunch date w/ Luna, and missed a chance at a race ’cause of rain and introspection. Skateboard’s soggy but spirits high. More tails to chase tomorrow!

Cuddle soon,
Poo Bear 🐾🛹💨

Listen to the story here

I skate. It’s what I do. It’s who I am. Winchester, the bulldog with a board, and today, friends, today was a day that rolled out like no other.

I woke up beneath the hazy sun washing over Pawsburgh, blinking away dreams of chew toys and bones – the stuff of good sleep. With a stretch that wrangled the kinks from my stubby legs, I hopped onto my skateboard. The smooth ride, the world zipping by – there’s nothing quite like it… until a shadow loomed over Pyrenean Peak, a looming memory that nipped at my heels. Rain was coming, and every dog from here to Blue Basenji Bay could smell it.

I rolled through Akita Alley, the heart of our shenanigans and dramas, its vibe like the chewy center of a bone – gritty and satisfying. But then I caught a whiff of trouble – the Baxter twins, two Pomeranians with tempers as volatile as a can of knocked-over trash, quarreling again.

“Winchester, eh? Think you can settle a spat?” Paddy Baxter, his fur all disheveled from the tussle, eyed my board. “Whose idea was it to dig the hole by The Snooty Snout Boutique?”

My board rolled to a stop, and I gave ’em both the eye. “Gentlemen, please. We’re all mongrels of dignity here. No need to snarl over a dugout.”

They exchanged glances, nodded, and skulked away. I suppose some days I’m a bulldog of many hats – skater, peacekeeper, confidante.

Lunchtime growled at me and I hit Dachshund’s Deli. The raw food speakeasy where they dish out the sizzle with a side of sauerkraut. My usual – a beefy tartare special, hold the berries – and a lick of the water bowl before I was back on my wheels.

But life in Pawsburgh isn’t all tail wags and fire hydrants. Just as I tipped my chin up to roll past Canine Café, there she was. Luna, the husky with eyes deeper than Blue Basenji Bay itself. We’d tangoed before, her free spirit, my four-on-the-floor steadiness. A match just shy of harmony, our last howl ended in heartbreak.

“What do you say, Winchester? Race to Bulldog’s BBQ?” she called, a challenge in her tone.

I eyed the slate-gray clouds. “After it rains, Luna. I’ve beef to settle with some puddles today.”

She huffed, her breath a wistful gamble, and surged ahead. The heart’s an odd thing – it doesn’t skate by instruction. But it knows when it’s beat, or at least when it’s time to shove off for another trail.

As the first raindrop plonked on my nose, the absurdity of it all struck me like a jolly egg to the jaw. I should have raced Luna, puddles and all. I glanced back, but she was gone, swallowed by the hustle of Pawsburgh life. And there I stood, a bulldog that balked, a champion of his own solitude.

I skated home through the drizzle, my fur a soggy testament to the day’s lessons. At the gate, my skateboard and I paused. We’re more than sum of our barks and tail chases, aren’t we? My backyard awaited – a kingdom of shenanigans under a silver-lined cloud cover.

So, my dear human, as Pawsburgh fades behind me and I lay here – your loyal, stubborn, rain-soaked companion – know this: every day is a drama, a dance of moments both rambunctious and serenely solitary. And if you ask me tomorrow, I’ll tell you about the time I almost raced Luna again, because we, the tail-waggers of Pawsburgh, live our stories one paw-print at a time. And me? I’m just a bulldog with a board, carving out my tale on the concrete canvas of life.

The End.