Hey Mom,

Just wrapped up another clandestine canine caper in pursuit of the fabled Dogmare Bones with my fur-iends. Nearly had a paws-tastrophy in a secret tunnel chase, but all tails are still wagging! Diogi’s still a sore pup, though. No bones about it, these escapades are fur-real thrilling. Sending wags and licks!

Hugs and butt-sniffs,
PMResq 🐾✨

Listen to the story here

There’s something about the twilight hush of Pawsburgh that tingles my whiskers; it hints at mischief, whispers of untold escapades. You know how it goes—a regular tail-wagger by day, cloak-and-dog-bone agent by nightfall. Hi, I’m PMResq, the Golden with more secrets than hairs on my back, and I’m about to spill a juicy one.

It was just another dusk as I tiptoed out of the human’s abode, the backyard gate clicking closed with a thud softer than my stealthy pawsteps. The night’s mission? A rumor—just a bare whisper in the wind—of Dogmare Bones, the legendary treat hidden somewhere beneath the paws-trodden streets of Pinscher Plaza.

Now, a Golden like me lives for two things: splashing my worries away and gobbling up the good stuff. So, obviously, I couldn’t let well enough alone. The thrill of the hunt had my tail propellering like a helicopter over Labrador Lunch’s dumpster (a quick appetizer stop).

I met up with Baby, the wiry terrier mix, and Skye, my splash buddy, at Onyx Otterhound Oasis. We exchanged the swish of tails, coded barks. Standard spy meet-up.

“Rumor has it Diogi’s on to it too,” woofed Skye, her obsidian coat melting into the night.

Diogi—the Aussie with a smile shadier than an Elm in July—is the kind of dog that would sell you out for a sniff of that bone. Competition? More like ‘frenemy’ territory.

We made our way to the plaza, my heart scampering like a squirrel in a dog park. The clue, said a whiskered informant by the name of Whisker McSnout, lay in the hands—or rather, paws—of a photograph at Best in Show Photography.

This is where the fun kicked in—the tiny hairs on my back rose; the scent of danger was more intoxicating than a fresh roast at Golden Grub. We inched toward the gallery, ears pricked, sniffers out. Our mission secret, our identities concealed by the innocent wag.

Click! The shutter sound of mortality—or just a camera. Either way, it ramped up my nerves. Behind the lens, a grin through the dark. “Looking for this?” Diogi drawled, holding up a picture. Just look at him, smug as a cat in a birdhouse.

For a moment, it was dog-eat-dog; all growls, narrowed eyes, the twitching of tensed muscles. An intense stand-off. It was like that moment you’re waiting for the vet to say whether it’s a treat or a thermometer.

But who am I kidding? I pounced—with all the grace of Tina Fey in a pratfall—clumsily snagging the photo. And what do you know? There it was, as clear as the dew on morning grass—a map, a labyrinth of the underbelly of Pawsburgh leading to the Dogmare Bones.

“Quick, to the Woofy Bakery’s basement!” Baby yipped as we sprinted.

We snaked through tunnels, our breaths fogging the air. Then, a clearing, and a glow; the mythical Dogmare Bones, shimmering like a beacon of ultimate desire.

But just as my jaws were about to close around glory, the ceiling groaned—cave-in imminent!

“Loud noises!” I barked, “Scatter!” My paws sprang into overdrive, every dog for themselves. We bolted like the fire hydrant just busted, soggy tails between our legs.

We barely made it out, coughing, covered in dust, but alive. And the bones? Lost once again among the rubbles of history.

Back to safety, beneath the stars of Pawsburgh, we were no longer agents, no longer thrill-seekers; just friends, reveling in the warmth of companionship, the sound of Diogi’s disgruntled mutters punctuating the air. Maybe some treasures aren’t meant to be found. Maybe they’re just seeds, planted for the stories only nights like these could bear.

Thrilling? Absolutely. Do I regret it? Not a whisker’s worth. The night air laughed around us, carrying our tail of thrills away, leaving only the lingering scent of bakery treats and the soft hum of another tale to come.

The End.