Hey Mom,

Just aced another day at Pawsburg General – unleashed my inner hero in Akita Alley, shared joy with tennis ball therapy, and even untangled the Great Leash Labyrinth. Saving paws and taking names! Tell everyone I’ll be home for cuddles and ear-scritches after my photoshoot. 🐾

Tail wags and love,
Luna 🌙✨

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Diary of a Boston Belle: A Day in the Pawsburg General’s Halls

Alright, listen up folks—you’re in the presence of Luna “The Boston Belle,” and what a day we have ahead of us here in the bustling town of Pawsburg. Picture this: Me, a Boston Terrier with one face-stripe fabulousness, steering through my day like a barkdozer through a fluff pile. Now, let’s dive nose-first into my Tuesday, shall we?

So there I am at Pawsburg General, wagging into my shift. Look, I don’t mean to brag, but when you’re expecting a day of tail-high drama, it’s kind of exhilarating. The place runs on the anxious energy of Canine Code Blues and heart-clenching moments that would have your fur standing taller than a Doberman’s ears.

First order of business: Akita Alley. Don’t let it fool you. I’ve heard the whispers – it’s Saluki Sands if you’re nasty – but for me, Akita Alley’s where the action is. The halls here smell like Pine-Sol and Puppy Chow, a scent that I, dear reader, have grown to love. The buzz of barkers and woofers starts my day with the kind of jolt you’d get from chomping on a live wire—totally shocking, absolutely invigorating.

As I strut past the barkboard—aka the duty roster—I spot my sister, Nova. She flashes me that “We’re-in-this-together” look, tying us to our shared fate with an invisible leash. Maverick and Louis are already in the thick of it, tails deep in a discussion that’s more intense than a growl-off at Rottweiler Ridge.

Today, I’m on tennis ball duty—don’t laugh, it’s serious business. See, after the heart-wrenching, sometimes tail-wrenching business in the ER, our patients need that plush orb of joy. Imagine, a little furball, just having had his belly shaved (egad!), watching me enter with The Ball. His eyes widen, his tail wags—if that doesn’t warm your heart, you may be a cat person.

Lunchtime hits, and I’m off to Canine Kabobs because, honestly, the scent of steak wafting through the air gets my saliva factories working overtime. I can’t stand lettuce, mind you; leaves are for peeing on, not eating.

Post-lunch means naptime. I curl up at Saluki Sands, a little slice of desert in our concrete doghouse. Sunbeams dance on my brindle coat, and I can almost forget the whine of otoscopes and the clang of kennel gates. Almost.

Suddenly, the intercom blares. “Code Green, Code Green!” Ears perk up around me. It’s a situation at Happy Hounds Dog Walking—a tangle of leashes and pride. I’m on it, sprinting with the speed of a greyhound with a turbo-charged butt.

There, the chaos of ensnared canines meets me. With Maverick barking orders and Nova assessing the damages, we unravel the mess. Leashes untwist, dignity’s restored—well, mostly.

We wrap the day at The Snooty Snout Boutique—well, you gotta look sharp when saving lives, right? A quick hop over to Best in Show Photography, and we immortalize the day with a snap that’s Instagram gold.

By evening, it’s back to my two-legged family. They never know the full story of my daytime escapades, just the bits I manage to convey through licks and enthusiastic spins. But in Pawsburg, I’m more than just a terrier—I’m a fur-clad hero… at least until it’s time for that dreaded ear cleaning.

Now, as I lay me down to steep in the glow of the moon, remember this: every pup has its day, but it takes one heck of a Boston Belle to tackle Pawsburg General.

The End.