Hey Chum,

Just to give you a tail’s wag about tonight: I’m the unexpected star of The Pet Bachelor in Pawsburgh. Picture this—your gal, Meatball, transformed from farmland philosopher to most-wooed woofer. 🐾 But under the spotlight and paws-pritz, I stayed true to my bulldog heart. Long story short, I chose real companionship over city spectacle. Can’t wait to tell you all about it, maybe over some Mutt Munchies? 🐶

Paws and Reflect,
Meatball 🥩🏀

Listen to the story here

Somewhere between the twilight of our humans’ slumber and the pale kiss of dawn, I, Meatball, found my stout, English Bulldog legs carrying me beyond the familiar farm pastures into the enchanting streets of Pawsburgh. Tonight was no ordinary foray. Cavalier Cove was abuzz with the latest spectacle, The Pet Bachelor, and somehow, I’d been roped into being the sought-after soul.

The stars were veiled by the soft shimmer of fairy lights that adorned Lhasa Lane, a prelude to the grand drama awaiting at Onyx Otterhound Oasis. Pawsburgh shimmered with the same gaiety that often escaped my appreciation in the labyrinths of the city. I preferred tranquil solitude or the company of a few loyal friends, yet here I was, an undeniable curiosity stirring in my bulldog heart.

I wove through the throng of expectant faces as I entered The Barking Boutique for a last-minute primp. Despite my usual dismissal of pomp, even I couldn’t resist a proud paw-raise at my reflection—a dashing dame, brown and white coat gleaming, ready for her debut.

The set of The Pet Bachelor loomed ahead like a tableau, replete with velvet cushions and bone-shaped treats. “Meatball, my stubborn starlet, prepare your heart for the wooing,” barked the host, a charming Chihuahua with a bowtie that matched his enthusiasm. I grumbled inwardly, the showiness of it all brushing against my nature like an unwelcome bath.

The contestants were a motley crew, each a character worthy of a Grisham novel’s intrigue. From the poetic Poodle to the brooding Boxer, their gazes pinned hopes on me. A Flush of excitement warmed my ears. How peculiar to be the center of such fervor.

I settled upon my throne—a comically oversized plush dog bed—as the ostentation commenced. It’s quite humbling, figuring out your worth in the reflection of others’ revering eyes.

Pooch’s Pub catered the event with hors d’oeuvres that smelled like Mutt Munchies, though far fancier than my usual snack. Between pleasantries and the insipid small talk that followed, all I yearned for was the stretch of farmland and my beloved stuffed owl, safe from these peculiar courtship games.

Yet, there was a thrill, one that flitted through my ribs as they vied for my affection, a series of endearments, and impressive stunts. I watched a Dalmatian juggle tennis balls, an act met with half-hearted claps from my massive paws. The farm girl in me saw through the spectacle—a Bulldog never forgets the genuine from the performative.

As the night unfolded, the ruse waned, and true colors splashed onto the canvas of Pawsburgh. I realized these canines sought more than just a sensational episode in their lives. They craved the forever home of a loyal paw; something I learned amidst hay bales, under the expanse of an open sky.

The finale loomed, and I stood before my assembly of hopefuls. “Each of you is a tale of loyalty and adventure,” I began, with Jerky treats shaking in my jowls. The contestants perked up eagerly. “But Pawsburgh isn’t just for play—it reflects the honesty we bring. This Bulldog’s heart belongs to the farmlands, and to those who share my sanctuary cannot dwell in spectacle.”

In the end, the racket of the city and the dazzle of the faux-shows dimmed, for a Bulldog values the steadfast over the fleeting. Loyal companions awaited me, those who knew my disdain for the pool and the clamor, who cherished my stubborn affection. And as Pawsburgh faded into the embrace of night, I, Meatball, trotted homeward; this Pet Bachelor ever-loyal, never sold, forever under the stars of the open country soul.

The End.