Hey fam, just rocked the moonlit stage with my furry band at Pawsburgh’s Pet School Musical! Our rebel hearts serenaded the night with “Paws to the Walls” and triumphed over the Elites. If my howls can reach the stars, surely they can touch your dreams. Miss you all more than a meaty bone but tonight, this pup found his groove. Keep an ear out for our barkin’ anthems! 🐾🌕🎸 – Beau the Bold

Listen to the story here

When the sun dips behind the human world, the nocturnal symphony of Pawsburgh emerges, a melody sweeter than any chicken fillet I’d snout around for in daytime’s clutches. Call me Beau — a White Shollie with a taste for adventure that’s only outmatched by my loyalty, an ironic twist since I’m out here trotting through Sapphire Schnauzer Street dodging the mundane life.

My fur gleamed under the moonlight, a beacon of untamed spirit, combed to rugged perfection. My paws danced on the cobblestones as I ventured towards Pawsburgh High, tail wagging a rhythm of sheer anxiety and excitement. Tonight wasn’t about the usual rough and tumble; it was something that curled my whiskers – Pet School Musical, a canine caper I couldn’t shake off.

The school stood there, lofty and self-assured, its halls echoing with the tunes of dreams and drama that preceded me. My mates — a motley crew of Shepherds, Beagles, and one particularly dramatic Pomeranian — already gathered, plotting a takeover via rock ‘n’ roll (or bark ‘n’ howl, if you will).

My loathed trip to the vet earlier paled in a blink as I sauntered into the improvised band room that used to be The Fetching Feline Pet Emporium, Scottie now running a tight ship after cats absconded to make space for our kind. Instruments were sprawled across the floor like the aftermath of a tornado – a rebellious collage. We weren’t approved by the K-9 board, but since when did dogs abide by the so-called ‘rules’ after hours?

I didn’t have ‘Mom’ here, her absence felt deeper than a buried bone but this was about breaking out of the box, reaching beyond the yard I so cherished, to howl my spirit to the moon. As for music, all I needed was the groove, and maybe the scent of Barker’s Bakery to fuel the artistic hunger.

“What’s our opening bark?” yipped Indy, a Beagle with a harmonica and an attitude.

“That’s easy,” I proclaimed, “It’s the sound of rebellion, the wag of camaraderie. We start with ‘Paws to the Walls’, an anthem of our emancipated hearts!”

As we mashed chords and yaps, I thought about our foes – the Pawsburgh Elites – primped Poodles and such, who’d scorn our sort of fun. ‘Twas our mission, a ballad boulevard, challenging the status quo with every woof, each strum a note in the canine opera we were authoring.

Intermissions required refueling, and Dachshund’s Deli, with its aromatic embrace, couldn’t have been better. Slurping down bowls of water (hold the ice, messes up the vocal cords), we planned our finale. The unfavored edibles, peas or liver – whatever – couldn’t hold a candle to the illicit smoked sausages we munched on the sly.

I forged friendships with the chase of chords, from Duke, the frantic Foxhound with the lightning paws on the ivories, to the soulful Collie, Lass, who turned a tennis ball into percussion gold. By the chorus of the third song, we knew we’d etch this night into Pawsburgh legend.

A hush seeped through Mastiff Meadows as the finale approached, and a spotlight – rigged up from a discarded human flashlight – pointed squarely at me. I hit the notes with fervor, and there it was, that unforgettable verse, caught in the flow, hoping ‘Mom’ could hear the echo of my voice.

“And though I’m not by your bed, may these notes of mischief and loyalty reach your dreams,” I howled, as the moon applauded our vigor with a spotlight of its own.

The crescendo of our canine spirits, the shared nod of every tail wagging to the riff of defiance – that was Pawsburgh’s Pet School Musical, unsanctioned, unwieldy, and utterly ours. After the bow wows and when the human world awoke, we’d retreat to our earthly thrones, each taking a slice of nocturne to brighten the day – the fiery ballad of our moonlit escapades eternally sung beneath our breaths.

The End.

Share This Story: