Hey pack pals! 🐾 It’s Ruby, the Grand Dame of Pawsburgh. Just wanted to let you know that I put that snooty Rex in his place and rescued my rope toy from his prying paws with some classic Doo wit and nerve. Tail wags and tongue lolls—a victory for dignity (and a little doggy revenge)! Signing off till the next tail-tale: Ruby Doo, the Vengeful but Venerable. 🏆✨ #GreatDaneGrit

Listen to the story here

Friends, welcome to the grand tapestry of my life, here in the illustrious Pawsburgh, where I, Ruby Doo of the Great Dane descent, have my tale of vengeance to narrate. It was a day like no other when I made my silent vow to get even. But even in revenge, one must keep a certain dignity—after all, this isn’t *cat* business, wouldn’t you say?

Now, my dear friends—and I trust you are my friends—it all started in Cavalier Cove, where I strutted ’round the bend with a certain je ne sais quoi, as the humans say. On that fated day, I encountered Rex, a pompous Pomeranian who fancied himself the Casanova of Spaniel Springs.

“What’s a colossal creature like you doing in the Cove?” Rex teased with a chuckle that echoed off the nearby cliffs. “Worried you might cramp your style in Samoyed Square? Or perhaps, just buffering for time, as you Great Danes do?”

His mockery hit my ears like an off-key serenade, and though I wanted to show him the power of a dignified snub, his next act was a sin beyond the pale – he trotted to my cherished rope toy, and with a smirk that could curdle milk, he absconded with it. My twilight sky coat bristled, my towering figure casting a long shadow as I watched him disappear into the bustle of Pups’ Paella.

Now, I am a gentle giant, but let me assure you, dear friends, my revenge would be a dish served not cold, but with enough spice to make a Shepherd’s Shawarma seem bland.

With the tact of a canine composed of cleverness and charm, I crafted a plan. It involved the three P’s of Pawsburgh: Ploy, Pounce, and Prance away victorious.

The Groom Room is where my gambit took root, coaxing Rex with the irresistible offer of a new ‘furdo’ to enhance his roguish good looks. With the fellow sprite otherwise engaged, I enlisted the aid of Luna, with her pirouettes, and Baxter, a fellow dog of mischievous inclinations, converging on The Woofy Bakery, just where Rex had stashed my beloved toy among the tail-wag-inducing pastries.

Old Duke was there too, sharing tales with the shopkeeper, distracting her with his nearby rescue exploits while we executed our mission. With a platonic kiss to Luna and a conspiratorial nod to Baxter, I secured my frayed treasure, now scenting ever so faintly of éclairs and pug-nuts.

Swiftly, my rope in tow, I took my leave. As Rex emerged from The Groom Room, a bow atop his freshly fluffed dome, he received naught but a glimpse of my merle hindquarters as I ambled triumphantly towards home.

Back at my human’s bakery, I regaled them with tales of my valor in Pawsburgh, as the scent of roasted chicken wafted in celebration of my reclaimed dignity. Ruby Doo, a name echoing not with defeat but resonating with the victorious notes of a well-played game.

Now, I lay, with my rope toy beside me, while Rex learned the hard way—never taunt a Great Dane with a grudge. And as for you, my esteemed audience, let us raise a paw to adventures filled with wit, wisdom, and the occasional whimsical warfare.

I bid you a good day, or better yet, a howlingly good evening—Ruby Doo has spoken, and with that, her tale of sweet, sweet vengeance now rests in the illustrious archives of Pawsburgh.

The End.