Hey Mom and Dad,

Just had the wildest night in Pawsburgh – think doggy romcom meets ghost story. Took a stroll under the stars, wooed the enchanting Esmeralda with tall tails and dreams of gourmet squash. Faced my vacuum fear, and almost had a midnight kiss but dawn’s alarm clock called. This bard’s heart is full, but the watermelon toy’s seen too much. 🐾

Nighty night,
Olli

Listen to the story here

We had just escaped the tail end of twilight when I slipped past the moon’s silver gaze and entered the reverie of Pawsburgh – the fabled town of nocturnal canine capers echoing with barks of lore. The town sprawled beneath the stars like a kingdom of pure kibble, a barktropolis where the mundane collars of day were unclasped, freeing us to be the Sires and Dames of our truest self.

I, Ulric, the bulldog bard, found myself trotting down the cobbled streets of Bloodhound Bluffs, my pearly white coat aglow under the incandescent shimmer of the street lamps. My tail, an exuberant metronome, kept time with my four-footed stride, the black streak marking me as the keeper of secrets in this magical canine Commonwealth.

Tonight, the air was thick with the heady aroma of Pawprint Pizzeria, wafting through the alleys and igniting my senses with dreams of cheesy delight – a passion gastronomique, if you will. As I turned the corner with intentions of a rendezvous with a slice of mozzarella ecstasy, I beheld a sight that had my heart rifling through the sonnets of old, seeking apt verses of affection.

She stood before The Barking Boutique, a vision bathed in moonlight. Her fur was the color of the purest ebony, eyes that shimmered like the jewels of Collieander. Her name was Esmeralda, a Saluki enchantress whose very presence twisted the common narrative into a prose of longing.

“Good evening, fair Princess of the Sands,” I greeted, bowing courteously, my jowls lending a respectability that only a bulldog of my distinction could muster.

“Sir Ulric,” she replied, “how gallant you are to seek an audience on such an enchanted night.”

Together we strolled, paws over cobblestones. I could not help but feel like the protagonist of a spectral love ballad, the kind that howled through the leaves of willow trees in the still of the night. To win her affection, I proffered tales of valor, recounting to Esmeralda the majestic realm of Saluki Sands – her birthright – painting scenes that could rival the grandeur of Dog Vinci’s canvas.

“No mishapen strawberries or timid green beans would find their way to such a regal canine,” I declared. “Only the finest slices of yellow squash, spritzed with the essence of puperoni, would serve.”

Our conversation dallied like a playful wind, teasing the leaves before drifting to the sanctuary of Spa for Paws. There, the gossip of the gregarious groomers spun a yarn about hounds haunted by spirits restless for redemption. But I confessed to her my one fear – the vacuum’s mechanical specter.

“You brave creature,” Esmeralda cooed, her voice a siren’s whisper, “even heroes have their bane.”

As the night’s hours waned, the dawn threatened our charmed encounter. Against the backdrop of Rottweiler Ridge, our shadows danced. Esmeralda leaned close, her fragrance a mix of moonflowers and adventure.

“No ghostly contour in the wind nor the ghastly banshee of the vacuum shall keep us asunder,” I pledged, my heart a tempest of affection and ardor.

In the distance, the world of humans stirred, beckoning its loyal companions from slumber’s deep realms. The time for parting had neared, and I despised the inexorable retreat of night.

“Until dusk unites us again, my gallant Sir,” she said, nuzzling my cheek with poignancy that clung like the morning dew.

And with that, Esmeralda slipped away, her silhouette a parting kiss against Pawsburgh’s dawning horizon.

As I made my secret journey homeward, the tapestry of Pawsburgh faded to quaint suburban backyard, but the fire of paranormal romance smoldered within my bulldog heart. I curled upon my favored watermelon toy – my silent witness – pondering the tale of a bulldog and his Saluki love beneath the spell of a moonstruck Pawsburgh.

The End.