Hey there! Just wanted to let you know, last night I had the most *paw*some adventure in Pawsburgh’s nocturnal side – totally braved the spooky and surreal. Got a tad spooked by talking toys but turns out, it may have just been a hunger-induced nightmare. Oops! 🌕😅 Let’s stick to daylight for our escapades, okay? Snuggle you soon! 🐾 – Queen Cathetine the First

Listen to the story here

Beneath the glow of the full moon, I found myself on the cobbled streets of Pawsburgh, a whimsical town that danced to the hushed whispers of the unseen. It was one of those strange nights, you know, where one’s spirit itches for an escapade far removed from the sunlit frolics on the gentle slopes of Hound Heights.

That playful breeze was my compass; leading me to Amber Akita Alley – a place I’d only trotted in daylight when the shadows were small and friendly. Tonight though, they loomed like titans, following my bouncy steps with silent judgment. You’d think a socialite like myself wouldn’t bother with the night’s eerie embrace, but curiosity, paired with the boredom of an empty house, will lead even a French Bulldog down a path less pee-marked.

Passing by The Doggy Depot, the fog grew thicker, outlined just enough by the lanterns. The shelves that normally brimmed with dog bones and feather-totting toys now held strange objects that wriggled and whispered my name, “Cathy… Cathy…” An odd shiver ran through my little frame and my ears, as expressive as ever, flattened against my head, a signal I wished Miss Penelope could decipher. Oh, how she’d laugh at me, getting spooked in a shop filled with canine delights!

But this was Pawsburgh after all, where the unusual was usual and a prim bulldog like myself became the master of her own gothic novel. I left the shop with nothing but a raised hackle before sauntering into Golden Grub. The place was buzzing—or perhaps the buzzing was in my head? The clock hadn’t struck midnight yet, but there sat Barney and Whiskers at our usual table, their eyes glowing an unnerving shade of yellow.

“Cathy,” Barney beagled, his voice a haunting echo that surely didn’t belong to him, “the sandwich you seek lies in the shadow-bound pantry. Dare you claim it?” The fur on my neck stood on end, but really, wasn’t this just another game of fetch? So I trotted towards the pantry doorway, dark as a bottomless kibble bag, expecting perhaps a chicken-flavored treat, but definitely not anything… peanut butter.

The frigid darkness enveloped me whole and I, having braved the ethereal landscape of the kitchen with only my snout as a guide, bumped into something soft and squeaky. Well, what do you know? A toy in the likeness of my dearest hedgehog, though it squealed not with delight, but with something more sinister.

The crack of lightning threw a merciless light over the pantry, revealing what would haunt my nights forevermore. Toys hung suspended in the air, a seething mass that hissed my name louder now. “Charming Cathy, will you dance with us?”

A dance? I shuddered, for there were pirouettes and then there were… these gyrations. My little heart pounded against my ribcage, a drum preceding the unspeakable. And amidst the cacophony, a soft voice cooed, “Cathy, awake now.”

It was Miss Penelope, reality’s anchor, leaning over me. In her glance was the lingering touch of those twilight realms, and in my growling stomach, the memory of a dreadfully missed dinner.

“We shall never speak of this, Penelope,” I mumbled through yawns as we snuggled into the embrace of uneventful dreams, where the only horror would be running out of my beloved chicken treats.

The End.